The Bird and Me_The Ride_Self Portrait With an Empty Moon_Take This Job and Shove It
Catalog Guide:
The Bird and Me
Across my five-hundred-ten square foot apartment on the twenty-third floor of an early-1980s utilitarian building at the southern end of the Bronx come a few staccato chirps and whistles of the American goldfinch that now resides with me. His name is Charlie.I open my eyes. I'm in bed. On the ceiling above me there is a faint crack in the plaster. It starts about an inch from the wall straight above my right shoulder and then winds its way in a jagged pattern toward the center of the room, where it disappears briefly behind the light fixture. The light fixture is frosted glass and has a seashe...
The Ride
After the morning chores were done, I met Coon for a brief dip in shallow Clear Creek to cool off from the oppressive summer swamp like heat. We got to talking about this, that and the other. We specuwww.onedoor.cclated and wondered a lot. Coon claimed I couldn’t last more than two, maybe three seconds at most sitting on top of Triste Noche. Shoot, the way I figure it, Coon knew me better than anyone else but often sold me short on the account of my red-haired temper and smallish stature as I barely weighed over a 90 pounds on a good day. But I figured him wrong on this one. I even bet him I could for a ful...
Self Portrait With an Empty Moon
I only get autophobia in the spring, or at least that’s what I tell people. It’s the season that’s printed on calendars with crooked lines but never seems to exist in this mustache of constellations and planets. There are specific step-by-step directions that I follow to rid myself of winter’s thick cardigan. To think of my life as this big chess metaphor, where I’m the queen of ivory and ravens like a grayscale film of an unvoiced war. If I’m the queen everyone else is a pawn so I’m not alone. To hop-scotch into the day when I drive to visit him, like chalk peppered onto a dripping sidewalk....
Take This Job and Shove It
"If he tells me I can't drink coffee at work again, you know what I'm gonna tell him?""No, what?""I'm gonna tell him to take this job and shove it! That's what!""Mmm... sure you will."Dylan scratched at his long, fiery beard in irritation. "Just give me a five-sixteenths already." Dylan snatched the nut-driver from the shop assistant and stormed out of the garage. It was ridiculous! He put in seventy hours a week at this trash job and now they wouldn't even give him a ten minute coffee break. It was cold, and starting to snow when Dylan climbed up the side of the eighteen wheeler. "How much lo...