A Love Like No Other
This was the year that my partner Tim and I went from being a couple to being a family, though perhaps not in the way you’d expect. After three years of packing up a bag and driving to another part of the city to spend time together, I finally moved into his apartment, where what was once his space slowly became our space.
The Lilac and The Housefly: A Tale of Tortured Romanticism
The lilac was unimpressive. Nothing more than a stick jabbed into soil with a price tag tied around the base of its stem, like some sort of prank on a naive consumer. And it worked. I saw the dingy branch and fell in love, sharing the same compassion as Charlie Brown when he bought that pathetic little Christmas Tree. I liked the idea of improving something.
In Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury writes, “It doesn’t matter what you do … so long as you change
“Live from the 054 bus in Athens” and “Violanta Biscuit Factory Blast”
I haven’t arrived yet.
I write to you —
yes, you —
live from the 054 Athens bus,
passing by Polytechneio or
I’ve Stayed in the Front Yard
My father never drank except at Christmastime, I’ve
never seen a brown bottle drain until I was seven, stayed
at my grandmother’s house and knew the skank smell of alcohol, in
winter where cigarette smoke looks ghostly, the
ash tray a black patch of night, he sat on the steps in front
