MANON: If this keeps up,
THE WRITER: says Manon, who looks at the sky, which is not letting up at all, not lightening anywhere,
MANON: Because it looks like it’s going to keep this up.
It came and went like a dream, as all good things do.
I always wonder what it feels like
to be wrong
to have a pool
I want to do that again
there will be no more lie detector tests or astonishing new pieces of information.
I didn’t settle upon philosophy out of some dispassionate search for meaning; I turned to it because I felt like I was drowning and was desperately searching for a life preserver.
I asked my characters what they wanted and they answered. My goal was to write a book about middle America during the opioid epidemic. I ran cars full of dope boys with fake MRIs from Ohio to Florida.
Most patients aren’t in as dire straits as the narrator of “Car Crash While Hitchhiking,” no. But due to embarrassment or fear of being judged, lying to one’s doctor is prevalent.
I’m also an instrument. My wingspan, another measure. I spread my palm beside the grass. What fraction of me is the height of this?
There were two ships that passed & made it safe to shore
I want to stop using metaphors for the things no one wishes to hear
As a member of the St. Olaf Choir, I spent a lot of time on concert stages in a purple velvet robe, nude hose, and a pair of black, smelly flats—smelly because all the women’s shoes traveled in the same trunk from tour venue to tour venue, to limit the risk of someone violating the strict dress code during performance.