hole

When a craving
cannot be satiated
distraction is the
only answer.

So I pile on projects,
meaningful work to divert
from the gaping hole
in my middle.

I sift powder
and breathe
through a mask.
Watching the
temperature
and the time.

I experiment with
words and fall in love
again with the sound
of pen on paper.

This is an odd place
where everything is
filtered, like light
brought in from
another time.

This is a place that is
not quite itself and
there is nothing to do
but get on with it.

The Blue Hour

Home is always the impossible subject, multilayered and maddening.-Paul Theroux

We’d like your writing, photography, and art about the concept of home. A place that evokes joy or angst, or both at the same time. Filled with memories that knock on walls and patter on old windows. We’ll start publishing submissions on this theme beginning the middle of March but we will start scheduling them immediately so don’t wait to submit your piece on home.

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