The mallards would scoff down bread with their long, flat beaks. My grandparents would give me a slice and I'd break it up and toss it out to them. I appeared to want the duck to eat out of my hand, but I think really I wanted the duck to eat me out of it.… Continue reading Mallards


One of things I’m really good at is giving persons who aren’t so good at relationships the space they need to learn what it means to cry for help. Sure, there was a time I used to see things that, like signs, would speak to me about my particular hope, help identify it, and if… Continue reading Space


In my vulture covered chest there is a maelstrom inside which God’s Walkman plays the sound of the sun. I’ve tried to weld it onto my sheet-like head, but it just won’t melt properly. Maybe I should go get the H-bomb and jump into Turkey Pond with it, volcano into the air, and pop tart… Continue reading Vulture