Humor, Memories, Narrative, Quirky, Reflection

Halloween Day: My Truck, My Tablet, and a Pink House

I called truck #212221 'Desirae'. Google tells me this is a French name for "the one desired". I found a poster of Ray Lewis propped against a pump-canister in the back of the flat-faced Isuzu my manager assigned to me: perhaps a desire but even more a discovery. "I'll call you 'Rae-Rae'-- short for Desirae."… Continue reading Halloween Day: My Truck, My Tablet, and a Pink House

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Memories, Narrative, Observations, Reflection

Halloween Day: The Costumed Clerk and a Plastic Trumpet

On Halloween Day I departed from the IHOP in Olney, MD in a daze. To lessen the likelihood of mowing-down trick-or-treaters with our fleet of half-blind utility trucks, our assigned work orders were lighter that day. I had spent the morning disguised as a lawn technician, and employed as one this past Autumn, but never shed… Continue reading Halloween Day: The Costumed Clerk and a Plastic Trumpet

Narrative, Observations, People, Reflection

It’s Like Warm Caramel

I cried unexpectedly when I read Kamasi Washington’s liner-notes for “Harmony of Difference”. I found the suite while browsing for “Heaven & Earth” on Amazon.com and ordered both sent to my father’s house in Holland, MI. Absconding to a chair in a blind corner, I quieted too fast and my father came looking for me,… Continue reading It’s Like Warm Caramel

Memories, Poetry, Reflection

The Fires of June

The ember in my core seeded my body, as if blue flames reached like trees from the stubble along my neck, spinal ridges, the crests of my shoulders. I am a land of fire, again relishing the sensation of burning as I stare into backyard flames -- flashing orange in the company of friends. I… Continue reading The Fires of June

Memories, Observations, Poetry, Reflection

Impressions & Images (#1?)

Like a swarm of jellyfish afloat in a swell, an uncountable glut of balloons offer trailing threads of many colors and rise away. If I grab the blue string, will I need to gather every thread of that hue to succeed at blues? Or must I make bundles of rainbow colors, yet miss the bulbs of indigo I cannot see?

Analysis, Narrative, Reflection

Pentagon City Mall: a draft

The black ones were from the ‘Payless Shoes’ store near the Tenley Town Metro station, purchased just as August began. I threw my pair of white tennis shoes into the garbage, right there, and walked away in the same pair of black walking-shoes I wore into the Pentagon City Mall -- now heavily scuffed and… Continue reading Pentagon City Mall: a draft