Writing
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for good.
Today, a four-year-old told me he was potty-trained. This, reader, was a lie. I didn’t know it til he was fighting for his life on the toilet (eat some fiber, kid), and creating a radioactive atmosphere from the depths of… Continue reading
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tubthumping, kids and gonzo.
All I’m going to say today is this: the song “Tubthumping” by Chumbawamba has been stuck in my head for multiple days now, and it’s verging on antisocial. I keep doing mediocre tasks around the house and quietly singing, “Pissing… Continue reading
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a simple musing.
I sit at the creek, its surface holding the sky’s forgetting time drifts like a leaf before me, edges curling, soft with surrender. a sadness floats beneath my ribs, not a wound, but a slow ripple, folding into the quiet,… Continue reading
words for the wind 