#Americans
This morning was something. A lit… lay on the ground. The sun floated… blue sky. The sea was blue, and bl… as far as the eye could see. Scarcely a ripple. Calm. I dresse…
It’s what the kids nowadays call w… like clouds from his lips. He hope… comes along tonight, or calls to a… Help is what he’s most short on to… A storm thrashes outside. Heavy s…
A few minutes ago, I stepped onto… of the house. From there I could… and everything that’s happened to… It was hot and still. The tide wa… No birds sang. As I leaned agains…
I woke up with a spot of blood over my eye. A scratch halfway across my forehead. But I’m sleeping alone these days… Why on earth would a man raise his…
These fish have no eyes these silver fish that come to me… scattering their roe and milt in the pockets of my brain. But there’s one that comes—
As he writes, without looking at t… he feels the tip of his pen begin… The tide is going out across the s… But it isn’t that. No, it’s because at that moment she ch…
This blind man, an old friend of my wife’s, he was on his way to spend the night. His wife had died. So he was visiting the dead wife’s relatives in Connecticut. He called my wife from ...
The people who were better than us… They lived in painted houses with… Drove cars whose year and make wer… The ones worse off were sorry and… Their strange cars sat on blocks i…
By the time I came around to feel… and woke up, moonlight flooded the room. My arm lay paral… propped up like an old anchor unde… your back. You were in a dream,
They were in the living room. Say… goodbyes. Loss ringing in their ea… They’d been through a lot together… they couldn’t go another step. Bes… there was someone else. Tears were…
It’s August and I have not Read a book in six months except something called The Retre… by Caulaincourt. Nevertheless, I am happy
Early one Sunday morning everythi… the child’s canopy bed and vanity… the sofa, end tables and lamps, bo… of assorted books and records. We… kitchen items, a clock radio, hang…
On the Columbia River near Vanta… Washington, we fished for whitefis… in the winter months; my dad, Swed… Mr. Lindgren-and me. They used b… pencil-length sinkers, red, yellow…
So early it’s still almost dark ou… I’m near the window with coffee, and the usual early morning stuff that passes for thought. When I see the boy and his friend
it gets run over by a van. you find it at the side of the roa… and bury it. you feel bad about it. you feel bad personally,
