Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
Tag: Yeah Write
Moving Day
I am 17 days away from having a hole the size of a half dollar drilled in my mastoid bone and I am getting a little weak in the knees. “Don’t worry. We cover it up with muscle and [whatnot],.” (I didn’t catch what… Continue Reading “Moving Day”
Hardcore Pink
Tomorrow morning I’ll drive to the clinic, put my clothes in a locker, put on a blue robe, stand half naked while a technician arranges first one of my breasts and then the other on a clear plate, the edge of which will dig… Continue Reading “Hardcore Pink”
The Week That Was
Let’s see. I wrapped up a project this week that involved working with a person who was the ‘other woman’ in a volatile relationship I had thirty-five years ago. I knew about her and she knew about me but I don’t know if she… Continue Reading “The Week That Was”
Neighborly Chat
Aren’t you cold? No. I don’t get cold. I’m not going to let you in. You’re too mad. Fine. Come out here on the porch. Then everyone can watch. You have no clothes on. I realize that. It seems to unsettle you.
Last Day in the Sun
I’ll watch tomorrow when the men come with saws, shave away your branches, amputate your limbs, prepare you for grinding. I will remember your shade and protection, the glory of your leaves against the sky. I will be here for your passing.
Stuck in the Past
Look in the garage attic. Just pull the rope and the stairs will come down. It’s probably been twenty years since we’ve been up there but I know that’s where she’s hiding. I hear her sometimes late at night, skittering around, scratching.
Reconstruction
It took me weeks to make this. I had to go all over town to find the pieces. That tarp, the stakes, all that rope to hold it up. It’s my home, man, and you just trashed it like it was nothing.
Garbage Day
He didn’t look up at the window but he knew I was there. Instead, he tugged at the ski mask where it had inched up his neck and kept his attention on sorting the toys left at the curb into two piles.
Cochlear Promise
We bore a hole in your head for the implant and then we attach a receiver that looks like you’re radioing Mars, then you’ll hear things you haven’t heard in years and it will drive you crazy and then you’ll be better.
Morning Routine
It’s impossible to convince him that WOOF is not the name of coffee. When he wakes up and sees me gathering myself, finding my robe and my flip flops, he smiles from his night nesting spot under the red pillow because he knows I’m… Continue Reading “Morning Routine”
Snow Door | wisconsinacademy.org
Listen to Jan read her essay “Billy” presented on WUWM’s Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “At the Breakfast Bar” on WUWM Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “The Parish Hall,” on WUWM Lake Effect
“Fury Cannot Touch Me,” Modern Love, NYT, 9/29/11
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