The cilantro and parsley succumbed first. Their thin stems and curled leaves couldn’t muster the strength to keep standing and fainting and standing and fainting in the heat. When temperatures rose or the soil grew bone dry they collapsed, stems hanging limply over the side of their metal pots. Sometimes the limp plants became entangled, … Continue reading The Death of an Herb Garden
I'm planning to move soon, so I made a photo essay about my neighborhood. I live on a street filled with print shops, punk shows, stray cats, laundromats, and old friends.
When I was first introduced to this 15th century poetry form, I despised it with a burning passion. If I could print out all the pantoums in the world and set them ablaze, I would have. They're easy to write. They're near impossible to write well.