Monday, September 15, 2014


Things happened (phenomenality of emergence)
between them (interpsychality). Determining what
was their mutual authoring, a found literarity,
intertextuality by reading each other—
a singular intrapsychality after all—
one’s reading of their trace, our reading,
as if they gain afterlife by gods’ listening,
the legacy of we who keep what happened alive—

Sunday, July 20, 2014

row, row, row your boat...

I had a fantasy of sequencing a bunch of PostSecret favorites like a story.

But it can't really work, because each card comes from such different lives.

Yet, like a dream where moments come out of unrelated parts of one's free-discharging brain and we wake up believing that the sequence has some meaning, I see a story. Despite the beginning, this has a happy ending. But, being made of others' postcards, you can't expect excellence of narrative continuity.

So it goes in life, too, likely: There are narratives and pretenses of continuity. But memory is like pointillism: Some altitude from fineness may disclose a topography, yet, often enough depending on imaginability.

This is about a woman who eventually secures her glorious freedom in the memory of her best friend.