|
real |
|
He came to town with a guitar, |
lightning quick wit, and hair |
down around his shoulders. |
I voted 2000 |
14 different voices |
|
telling 14 different |
stories about politics, |
elections, and America. |
my stupid childhood |
|
After a while everything becomes |
boring and you want something new. |
My new thing was a pair of skates. |
giving thanks |
This thanksgiving |
|
I'm thankful for |
love, support, and |
blueberry jam. |
star wars memories |
|
The lights go down and I'm |
laughing at the pure joy of |
seeing giant yellow words |
scroll up the screen. |
resolutions |
|
It always seemed so far away, |
but here we are in 1999. |
strange beds |
|
The daily imprint of |
a body and its scent |
never quite disappears. |
c r u m b l e |
There was never any |
|
doubt about what Cali |
was going to do. |
recklessness |
|
I put my ear down |
on the rail to check |
for vibrations. |
t a i l l i g h t s |
I made small talk and |
|
watched as the cars |
blurred by. Eventually I |
worked up the courage. |
meeting peter again |
|
Maybe it was the gentle rain |
that made him so reserved. |
Maybe it was the stress. |
Or maybe it was me. |
meeting peter |
If it's just an innocent |
|
little flirtation, why |
do I feel so guilty |
when he catches me? |
celebrating mom |
|
That day, torn from |
my history, has never |
made me stop and |
think. Until now. |
g h o s t s |
They were subtle, |
|
mental, hidden. |
It was their house. |
t o u c h e d |
|
The fact that |
I don't remember |
the first time |
still unnerves me. |
disposable lives |
How many names |
|
do you have? |
Most people have two, |
maybe three. |
Not so for me. |
burning the man |
|
At Burning Man |
there are no |
observers ... |
only participants. |
|