there’s a certain slant of light

  The real reason I flew to California last month is that someone I love very much is quite ill. Emily Dickenson seems to have written the brief on how I feel about it:… Continue reading →

oh canada

Every other year or so Celine and I meet up for an adventure. Last time, she came to Holland and we filled our days with herring and poetry walks and Belgian beer and… Continue reading →

la vie en cozy

  I’m in love with the darkening autumn evenings that send us inside to brood. Fuzzy dotted socks, fuzzy paisley sweater…all bundled into the pose I mimic from my yoga guru/calico kitten who… Continue reading →

poems in plainclothes

You already know that my eye collects things.  Prolifically. So much that it’s been whining for a theme song. So I wrote it one.  plainclothes poems, the song is called. Shall I show you… Continue reading →

the blood I lose in translation

My identity lost a lot of blood when I was transplanted to Holland. Three years on, it still looks anemic. Some days I don’t care that I’m not myself in Dutch yet, and… Continue reading →

of the truth about loving

Exhibit A, 2009: Two crazy kids, nonchalant and confident that they will rock ‘this marriage thing.’ Exhibit B, 2012: Two shaken-up kids. The nonchalance seared off quick, like a slick of kerosene on… Continue reading →

of X and the spot

Oh oh oh it’s been a busy week. The kind where you fall into bed with a pff! on Friday night at 10pm (that being obscenely, “are you sick??” early round these parts). After… Continue reading →

of the things my eye collects

I’m not sure if you also flit between reality and a literary fantasy land like I do, but today I lived this poem by Richard LeGallienne: I meant to do my work today,… Continue reading →

of the wee hours

  chin propped on blunt-butted knee loitering fingers on prudish keys the fat hand of the kitchen clock lobs itself from 2 to 3 and I go on planting words in the night’s… Continue reading →