Tag Archives: words

Proof

They say that in the beginning was the word but you weren’t given the true complete sentence— In the beginning was the word, betraying silence, and this became lighted proof of the beginning of fiction.

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In the Beginning, Fiction

Now you say no more words but you don’t really mean no more words, these dreams of going wordless are playthings in the air, concepts without volition. You are compelled to use words to express what it would be like … Continue reading →

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A Man Walks Into

   A man walks into a man. He realizes it’s the same man … they’re … the same man. They merge. Naturally. Inviolably. A man walks into a man and a merger occurs.    Who was I before I walked … Continue reading →

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Window for Two

Do you plan to get up today Max? No Marge, you? I am up. You plan on staying up? No, just wanted a spot of tea. That’s very British of you. What is? A spot of tea . . . … Continue reading →

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Feast

Every utterance, meat and bone in a mutable feast, in which you, as chef and patron alike, come to understand the nature of appetite in relation to words seasoned for infinite digestion.

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Into the Blue

I have been scratching at air since I was a child, and have had the good fortune of feeling into words that have fallen out of thin blue nowhere– And these words I have gathered, or to put it more … Continue reading →

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Chekhov and the Cat

“The longer a poem, the weaker the impression that it has been dictated from above: Heaven is not verbose.  The more you talk, the more you lie.”–Vera Pavlova When I am overly verbose, I am trying to convince myself, or … Continue reading →

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Words, Silence, Music

“Therefore, speak, speak at any price, say no matter what, since all words have equal value and all say the same thing, all repeat tirelessly the same call for help.” — Samuel Beckett If we are to take Mister Beckett … Continue reading →

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Naming Desire

Whoever I am, I have always depended on the kindness of words– such strange company, these solitary verses.

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This Word’s Life

Words are wonderfully illegitimate and unhurried placeholders for psychic disturbances and vagrant quandaries. To frame it differently– Using a broken compass to navigate through a paper town on a vintage red bicycle is, in itself, immaculate. Words, in other words, … Continue reading →

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