Ten Years, She's Dead, And I Still

There's A Space At The Bottom Of An Exhale, A Little Hitch Between Taking In And Letting Out That's A Perfect Zero You Can Go Into. There's A Rest Point Between The Heart Muscle's Close And Open - An Instant Of Keenest Living When You're Momentarily Dead. You Can Rest There.

It Strikes Me That Whatever Advantages There Are To Being A Boy--getting To Stay Out Late And Having Other People Wash Your Clothes And Bring You Plates Of Stuff--get Undercut By Having To Play Football.

As A Memoirist, I Strive For Veracity.

When I Got Sober, I Thought Giving Up Was Saying Goodbye To All The Fun And All The Sparkle, And It Turned Out To Be Just The Opposite. That's When The Sparkle Started For Me.

A Pool Game Mixes Ritual With Geometry.