The Writer's Life: Film & Book Reviews, Observations, and Stories
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Two Interlocked Forms

These two interlocked pieces sit on the mantel, rough and unfinished, but the forms are distinct and my intentions are clear. Perhaps one day I’ll sand them—or, perhaps, not—since I have no idea what God intends for me. I take my life from day to day, from moment to moment. The two pieces remind me of love relationships—resting upon one another but separate, interlocked but free.

August 20, 2009   1 Comment

An Amalgam

We sit together in the bedroom
My mom and dad and I
Reduced by age to our barest outlines
His identity held in place only by his skin
Hers by her vanity
For she looks at herself in the mirror whenever I speak.
I study her eyes and know what she sees
For it is what I see myself:
A madman without a center,
A woman obsessed with her image,
And a son who observes everything
An amalgam of both
Helpless to change it.

August 20, 2009   Comments Off