unhistoric acts

My dad goes in for a memory test. He thinks he didn’t do well. I could hold this test down and punch it until it passed out, gushing blood from its nose, and sorry. Our identity, mine, my mom’s, my dad’s, rests on being the smart one, the clever one, the one who goes faster, […]

the sun with eyes closed

My dad said, “Your car looks great!” My dad cares about cars being clean, and in my middle age, I have begun to care, as well. The previous week I had crowned my Friday work day with a trip to the car wash, where I sat and imagined the spouts and flaps were monsters with […]

under it

Overwhelmed, overloaded, crushed. These words describe not just the fuse that services my classroom, but my overall situation. (It’s okay. The fuses are just in the hallway. And half the time, the teachers in the other classroom I share power with go flip it.) Swamped. Submerged. Inundated. These words describe not just what happened to […]

the Heat

the living is easy fish are jumping and the cotton is high your daddy’s rich and your mama’s good looking so hush, little baby don’t you cry Saturday, September 1, 1923, an 8.0 earthquake killed 100,000 people in Japan. Homes shaken into ruins left millions of people homeless. I ran across this bit of history […]