Thursday, August 30, 2007

John Doe

Last night the neighborhood watch reported a raggedy, sandy-haired hobo.
His willowy silhouette passed over lawns and through front and back yards,
in and out of lamplight, under a clear half moon.

That was a Saturday in August, when I slept soundly, windows open, miles upstream from the city of sprinklers. That was when I dreamt and forgot anonymous dreams.

On Sunday morning a keeper of public works arrived with his mower and rakes to the scene: the fresh wreck of a deer, little gore and no horns, flung up on the clean grass between tennis courts and boulevard, in the sun.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

an update

ok, here’s one about blogging. let’s get meta. it’s been weeks since my last post so I’ll be brief and get this updated: I’ve got my right hand back and maybe I’ll put up some before and after x-rays if I can get my films back too.

we’re just about all moved in to the new place now and most other things are getting back. also, school is back in session. but please, say no more of chalkboards! I’ve studied my primer and learnt my lesson. that morning when I struck Oman a right jab it changed everything. but then, looking around, I saw that Oman was completely unaffected, which figures. I peeled back Oman and all of Appalachia made it out unscathed too. this was hard for me to take.

so when people would ask, I'd just tell them that “I fell”. but now my pins have been taken out so it’s no longer such an issue.