H.G. Who?

“I’m going back in the time machine; I’ll be right back,” my daughter hollers from the backyard when it’s time to set the table….

Between States

Twenty miles into Ohio, sky shifts downward, opens wide to hide hills, pries the “hi” from the sides of its name. There a man…

And then

And then

The night she turned 40, she stopped speaking. Suddenly. Unplanned. The night unexpectantly there. Waiting. The night she turned. Not the morning filled with…

Afternoon Nap

My daughter dreams breasts, lip-synching lunch. I am the large one beside her, a sleepy parenthesis curl for her appetite. Like a sleepwalker descending…

The JC Penney Advertisment

shouts 4-Hour Doorbusters in headliner arrogance above the full-color page of bras jutting out at any middle-aged onlooker unaware of ironic intent. My six-year-old daughter…

Building

“The youth gets together his materials to build a bridge to the moon….the middle-aged man concludes to build a woodshed with them.” – H….