Monthly Archives: January 2010

Imagine a pair of shoes…

Posted on January 30, 2010 by pdxwriters

They are square-toed black boots, the kind that would hurt you badly if they decided to kick you. I was that kind of man. My hair was black and bushy, my beard was unkempt, and I tended to stink. That’s … Continue reading →

Posted in Friday Morning Workshops | 1 Comment

If You Were Here

Posted on January 23, 2010 by pdxwriters

If you were here, Mom, I don’t know what you would think of me. People have been telling me to find you for 12 years now, ever since I turned 18. Everyone is curious, and I am too, but I … Continue reading →

Posted in Thursday Evening Workshops | 1 Comment

Dead in the Russian Snow

Posted on January 18, 2010 by pdxwriters

When we first moved here, mother took the blue mirror cross that hung over her bed in our old house and mailed a nail for it in the new bedroom of me and my sister. We had to leave the … Continue reading →

Posted in Thursday Evening Workshops | 4 Comments

Fear

Posted on January 18, 2010 by pdxwriters

Prompt: A time when you felt fear… Champaign, Illinois, Spring 2002, bitter cold, screaming wind outside, a turgid hothouse of jewel-toned sweaters inside the bar. It’s another weekend night, I’m there with my gaggle of fellow grad students getting as … Continue reading →

Posted in Thursday Evening Workshops | Leave a comment

Pantoum – Thursday class poetry exercise

Posted on January 18, 2010 by pdxwriters

Pantoum – poetry exercise I see traces of you everywhere the apartment holds artifacts of your daily life So many years we’ve now worked opposite ends of the clock Sometimes you reach for me at night as we both sleep … Continue reading →

Posted in Thursday Evening Workshops | 1 Comment