memorial day.

I’ve been sick and traveling and now I’m still sick but finally stationary and jet-lagged, the kind that wakes you up out of the blue at 5 in the morning, the kind that sends you to bed before 10. It felt good to get to California. S pointed out the plane’s window and I leaned […]

the first sentence.

  I lived in New York for four years and never really fell in love with it. There are parts I love, sure, like the Bethesda Fountain and the three archways under the terrace in Central Park. The Audubon Center in Prospect Park. The Green-Wood Cemetery. And there are streets I love, blocks I love, […]

hit & run.

My mother ran my father over when I was nine or ten years old. I was in the backseat at the time and I remember the unmistakably bump of car-over-body and for a moment it was almost worse—the car kept rolling backwards, my mother trying to jump over the middle console to get from the passenger’s seat […]

roman candles.

…the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars. […]

broke down.

The bus from Palm Springs to downtown LA broke down in a tiny, nameless desert town. Nobody spoke English. The bus driver didn’t speak English. The man sitting next to me—an overjoyed, perpetually smiling character who was traveling with his large family and who kept offering me pieces of some kind of Mexican flatbread—couldn’t speak […]