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I am often caught by my reflection in glass, usually
in a window, and my own face startles me. I’m not
sure what I expect to see there. It is always a
stranger looking back, an old man not unlike my father
     but less like his little boy.

Read more on Glass…

A poem about my good ol’ uncle Joe…

     It doesn’t take much to fix a laptop computer, if you know how, and if you have the time and energy, and I suppose the experience helps a bit. Maybe even some training. I had all of those things, but my company still wouldn’t let me fix them. Something about the warranty, I was not an authorized technician and I would void the warranty if I opened them up. So when our laptop computers broke down we were required to call the manufacturer for “on-site” service, which meant that some guy with less experience and energy would come out to the office and fix them for us. I fixed all the desktop computers, the servers, the printers, everything else, but I wasn’t allowed to mess with the innards of the delicate laptops. Read more on 19 Years…

(The comic book I write was intended to be very loosely based on the following short story, but ended up being something wholly different.)

Read more on Scar Tissue…

The lights dim as the cinema begins.
 
      She moves as a parade
      of jasmine and winter breath
      and I am the last dance of hornets losing stingers.
 
Lights, camera, action.
 
      She offers up
      a smile, an embrace
      All her defenses and nervous mysteries.
 
I devour these gifts,
 
      And suddenly I am trapped
      within her cage of arms,
      paralyzed, hungry.
 
The world becomes a teeming collection
of noises and intrusions,
invading our familiar coil.
 
      Somewhere,
      The sea level rises,
      A streetlight flickers and goes out, followed by another.
 
I join in their obvious worship,
lost in a wilderness tamed by her bitter smile;
her damning embrace;
the fall of her gentle rain.
 
      A turn of the head, wicked, satisfied,
      she opens her cage and releases me
      and disappears in a dizzying repose.
 
Jump cut. The camera follows her down the boulevard.
 
      Sirens.
 
            Footsteps grow quiet.
 
                  All that I am fades to black.

Read more on Cage of Arms…