As I Lay Thinking

Outside the wind howls. Snow falls sideways. Houses wail like wounded dogs. My city is a snow globe under siege. Luckily, I’m inside wrapped in 48 blankets. A man-made cocoon, warm as a bagel. Thoughts dance like Gregory Hines in my head: The band, Simple Minds, on why it won’t be taking the ACT this…

Rowing Down The Stream Of Consciousness

Monday, April 18th, 2016. 5:14 AM. I wonder how many people are up writing right now? Are they writing fiction? Perhaps something for work? We’re out here. Like rowers on the Cuyahoga River. Type, type, type instead of splash, splash, splash. Or whatever water sounds like when oars are pushing it away so the boat…