Zetetic

Blue Bamboo’s Sad Jazz Tune

I beat on the subway doors, screaming your name. Melody, I say, Melody, baby, why you leaving me? I wish the people around you would point at me. They smack their gums and read their magazines. No one notices a thing. I want to brush the bangs out...

Saved Anyway

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The Telescope, the Microscope, and the Moon

I’m staring out the window, thinking about how I loved you so much, I became an astronaut. My eyes survey the blue planet whose atmosphere I just left, and I wonder which tiny speck is you. I wonder if you’re wondering where I’ve gone. I’m wondering...

Jennings’ Dreams and Keepsakes

At the time, I didn’t realize that I was almost done with dreaming, but that’s the thing about dreams: You think they’ll go on forever, but one day they just stop, and after a while, you wonder if you ever had them in the first place. I don’t...

The Experience Gallery

I want to make an Experience of this moment. If I were an artist, I’d try to capture this snapshot with all five senses. It’s dark tonight, and you can’t see the stars in the city, but the glare of the new Illuminage LED...

Broken House

That house where a year ago my daughter and that little girl strung the just large enough tree with strings of beads and papers with misspelled secrets written on them. That house where drinks in the afternoon and sometimes in the morning were what...

Wrecked

“Take your time.” Mr. Savage’s smiling face pokes out of his door another ten feet down. “Slow and steady, sir.” I slap on my smile, my professional face no matter what. Shallow breaths ensue as the back brace holds back more than just the pain. I...

Thirteen Seconds

I can’t remember if I was originally a man or a woman. All I know is that, for now, I’m a woman. I live in a modest two-bedroom house with my fiancé. He just proposed about a month ago at a state park. We don’t have any kids. Not...

Going Back Home on Sundays

We began to pray again— Pools of wax on the dining room table Cooled and ordered themselves in a Stacked column around a wick stuck Solidly in a golden base that we Packed away in newspaper in the rafters We felt the weight of the box above our...

Buried Treasure

In June, when the air was wet but the nights still cool, my father would take us up into the mountains before dawn. He followed a worn and tattered map drawn by my grandfather before I was born, seeking out places untread since the time of giants...

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