So You Can’t Paint Like Schiele

I keep starting out projects with the intention of creating a loose painting that is, hopefully, evocative and substantial with the figure alone–the figurative work of Alice Neel, Marlene Dumas, and Schiele all being prime examples of this. I then get frustrated because, well, if I could paint like Neel, Dumas, or Scheile we wouldn’t…

Sand in Uncomfortable Places

It’s a peculiar sight– blood on the back hem of the skirt she wore while building cities out of sand. It is October. The summer’s sun now gone. The stain now brown, camouflaging with the cotton. The skirt catches fire, the sandbox turned fire pit expanding in the yard effacing the grass and dandelions, creeping…

Face to Face

Face to face with strangers on the sidewalk, the train They could have dyed their hair last night pierced that lip shed 50 pounds aged 40 years and we wouldn’t know it. Always face to face never phased by differences for we didn’t know them yesterday and only saw them will never know them they…

Recess

You skip town for a few days Underwear on the clothesline And come home to find that everyone’s dead or dying. The lint trap’s filled to the brim. The cat’s hair is in your cereal, but you can’t seem to find him. Your bedroom’s in the living room The living room is a storage closet…

2008

They silenced the grandfather clock in ’08 and since then I’ve forgotten how to say “I love you” We wouldn’t know it – all quarantined behind locked doors, but its hands are still in orbit circumventing its core all running the two of us now fleeing believing our wanderings will keep its hands in motion…

White Space

10 AM – out from under the sheets avoid my reflection brush my teeth and coat myself in a layer of blood If not my own, then whose? Wait as the oatmeal in the dining hall is changed to soup Wait as the temperature creeps toward today’s high Wait for the gesso to dry and…