Crows assemble at this U of M tower like children around a birthday cake, hoping for the killing to begin so they can have lunch. You are fools they say, everyone is black until you pick our feathers. Each December they fill the sky along the river in flocks too numerous to count. Such gatherings … Continue reading Cawing into the Abyss
Fatherhood
Homer Saves Springfield
The man had trouble keeping up with his wife, grimacing as he hobbled behind her. The two boys ran far ahead of the both of them like unleashed puppies. The river flowed dark and cold to their right. It would be frozen soon and this realization made him as bleak in his thoughts as the … Continue reading Homer Saves Springfield
Ashes of American Flags
“I would like to salute The ashes of American flags And all the fallen leaves Filling up shopping bags” Wilco lyrics by Jeff Tweedy and Jay Bennett My son’s chain keeps falling off his bike so, like the dutiful father I am, I drop it off at the Hub repair shop. I feel anxious because … Continue reading Ashes of American Flags
Strange Days
As a bored, pimple-faced high schooler, I read a science-fiction story about a character who gets trapped on the wrong side of the mirror. Duped by his reflection, he lives in a world not quite normal—a dimmer alternate universe populated by imposters he does not love. I could not tell you the name of the … Continue reading Strange Days
Down by the River
When I got home from work, the boy told me he wanted to go fishing. I paused before answering out of weariness. What I really needed was a cold beer and a hot shower. “Let your dad rest and get settled,” my wife said in support. “I’ll never say no to that,” I said. “We … Continue reading Down by the River
Graffiti Bridge
I decided to put the words and the worries aside and just take some pictures. The suburbanites hurtling over us in their cars had no idea about the art and the wonder below. I could leave the city, put myself deeper in debt and find a nice spot by some lake. I might catch bigger … Continue reading Graffiti Bridge
Underneath the Bridge
Gripping our rods and a bucket, I held back some bushes for my six-year-old son so he could go on ahead of me. To my left, I noticed the sleeping bag underneath the bridge. At the opening, where the head should have been, I saw a pair of red Converse All-Stars. A dirt bike lay … Continue reading Underneath the Bridge
Sons of Liberty
They finally gave us washable cloth masks at work. When I brought one home, my wife commented that it looked like a young girl’s panties. That thought had definitely not occurred to me. Soft, small, white and, yes, cottony. That is, after Emily said it, what they looked like. I couldn’t get … Continue reading Sons of Liberty
Roswell City Limits
My father died on February 25th, 2012. He was 67 years old. He had made an appointment to see a doctor that day, but the pain got to be too much and he ended up dialing 911. He had a perforated stomach that led to septicemia which is a bacterial infection of the blood. He … Continue reading Roswell City Limits
My Father’s Shoes
In my earliest recollection of childhood, I feign sleep in the back seat of a car. Through a veil of eyelashes, I watch motes of dust circulate in a shaft of sunlight like something astral. I remain like that a long time--in wonder of the dust--when I hear my mother tell my father that … Continue reading My Father’s Shoes