The Rain At Home

Dusk is falling out the window: my feet are tired, my body aches. I’m staring, bleary, sighing, slowly, sipping a beer, welcoming the evening air, and I am in New Orleans, and Golden Meadow, and Mexico City, and Amsterdam, and Delhi, and Phnom Penh, and Tokyo, and it is raining, …

The Green Parts

Its raining hard in Mexico City in defiance of my old notion that Mexico is a desert. Turns out the maps on the wall in high school I studied in my daydreaming weren’t all that accurate, that they depicted concepts other than climate. In hindsight, I guess I should have …

Time is Money

You can have a lot of money, or you can have a lot of time, but you can’t have a lot of both. That’s just the way it works, at least for most of us. For a while I had plenty of money, so I figured I’d try out having …

A Brief Connection

The clothes dryer across the hall in the back of my father-in-law’s house produces the rhythm of a railroad car when it’s running, and just now, in adjusting to tune out it’s repetitious sound, I suddenly became aware of a connection with a version of myself in a moment distant in …

Esplanade Avenue

Mid morning Saturday. Begin behind the restaurant. In a block of unremarkable houses, on a porch in the sun. From there: The movieset village bustle of Bayou St. John The complicated shadows of winter oak trees shimmering The crowd lingering, laughing at Tastee The cigarillo smokers trailing clouds The bus …

Upon Reflection

You can’t really say you’ve lived in New Orleans until you’ve seen yourself through the haze of a bathroom mirror, drunk at 2 am, tired, sick, and lonely, but still completely in love. “As long as I keep drinking” you address your bloodshot eyes, “New Orleans will never die.”

Louisiana Summer

The familiar feeling of waking up stiff, still a little drunk, still a little angry, but detached now, like it was all last night because it was, barely, though just enough to venture opening your eyes in your truck, in your driveway, with the sun, already too high, glaring in …

Kids These Days

All the kids these days have suburban dreams or else want to live in Brooklyn they want status symbols and creature comforts and the best of everything for a price that can’t be beat they want artisanal happiness in attractive packaging designed by someone they’d maybe like to be or …

Common Language

There’s some kid in this bar making faces as he tells his story i can’t hear a word he speaks But I know exactly what he’s saying. He makes the gestures of our homogenous culture; I can name the movie actor he got that chin angle from, I know what …