You splendid animal circling the gables of the blind


Someone is praying a terrible prayer. They do not know what holds them on their knees is their body, their bending, one rung among so many missing. Your fingers push icons back and forth on a computer screen, reflecting you, what you might call reflecting, a life led on little squares of light. The sea swallows inside the sound of the bird; the sound of the bird becomes the sea, a digital one, static that goes on and on. Your child, too, cannot sleep. He stands at the window, as night becomes morning, trying to click and drag something he sees in the air across the sky.


Places I've Been

The following links are virtual breadcrumbs marking the 27 most recent pages you have visited in If you want to remember a specific page forever click the pin in the top right corner and we will be sure not to replace it. Close this message.