Category Archives: heart ache

Summer People

When every single one just wants a little tiny bit more then what I am offering… Read the rest of this entry

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My Front Porch 12

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On my front porch we …
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My Front Porch 8

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On my front porch kids… Read the rest of this entry

My Front Porch 6

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On my front porch the heat…
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Wascawee Wabbits

I live in a yard, in a lovely shed with a sliding glass door and one perfect window. It was insulated by a friend who lived there before me. She had fabric hanging from the ceiling because she hadn’t perfected drywall when she did the ceiling and she said looking at it reminded her of constant failure. That sort of thing doesn’t bother me the same way, so their is no fabric hanging from my ceiling. Read the rest of this entry

When I Didn’t Know My Ass from the World’s Largest Hole in the Ground

 

 

I felt it immediately…

 

A certain warmth, a certain troubling consistency. Read the rest of this entry

Bootlegged

Wow! I was remembering that as a one person country band I had cut a demo in my favorite dilapidated dancehall in deep west Olympia several years ago. I remember that at the time it ended up somewhere on the internet so today I searched for my band, “One Disaster Short of a Country Song” and I did not find the demo but I did find a bootleg I had no idea existed… Read the rest of this entry

I Still See

I have lived inside for more than five years. In rooms that are four walls or at least some kind of four wall concept, most with doors that shut. These rooms are in houses with bathrooms that have big ole water wasting flush toilets where I do the vast majority of my business. There are ceilings on these houses that keep out rain for the most part. There are mattresses in my rooms, now there is even a bedframe, a head and a footboard. There are rooms with stoves and working refrigerators and when we say we are out of food we are not counting the pantry full of the food bank cans we prefer the least. Read the rest of this entry

READ THIS BOOK Girls I’ve Run Away With by Rhiannon Argo

 

Two cars up from me on a train headed to California there are two teenage girls travelling alone. I saw them in Portland chain smoking down to the last millisecond of the stop. When the train started again I was in the throws of Rhiannon Argo’s “Girls I’ve Run Away With.”

In Salem I looked up from the last paragraph with tears in my eyes. Salem, which funny enough, Read the rest of this entry

Evidence of love….

7/15

My dog died 10 days ago.

 

Motel 6, 47.00 for bloodstains on the carpet and cigarette burns on the pillows. Salt water taffy stuck in my teeth, I don’t brush it out because where else is breakfast going to come from.
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Another

I was riding my bike from Portland to Eugene.

It’s not the longest ride but it’s not the shortest either.

In Oregon anyone can walk or bike on any road even the main several lane freeway that cuts down through the off center of the state. We weren’t taking that route though. We were taking two lane highways;
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The Last Time I Saw My Grandma or The Last Great Watermelon Incident

I was 13 or 14 and just barely out of the house. I was visiting my grandparents on my Dad’s side. I was taking my niece, who was my brothers’ baby, to meet them for the first time.

I was on the floor in the front room with her while my Dad and his wife sat looking on in the company of my Grandma and Grandpa.

That floor was lovely; I grew up on it sometimes. And those laps, the laps of my Grandma and Grandpa, I grew up on them too. Read the rest of this entry

VapoRub

The feeling of being loved or not being loved is not circumstantial.

I can feel alone anywhere in the world, in any crowd, in any set of eyes or arms.

Most of the love that has been here for me in my life has not been translatable. I haven’t received it, haven’t felt it or believed in it. I am having specific kinds of memories lately, sudden flashes of times when people have been showing me they loved me and I have missed the ball completely.
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