How we know each other

06. January 2014 here now 7
At the end of 2013, I sat with S. while she smoked a cigarette out on the patio at a bar that we like. Two guys came over and bummed a smoke. They asked us how we knew each other. S. said, “Drinking and writing. ” This strikes me as the best possible way to ...

Re-entry

27. November 2013 here now 0
I was only gone for three days, but coming back into Los Angeles is sometimes hard. On my commute, a piece of cardboard flips up off the road. It hits my windshield and flies towards the shoulder. I fight the reflex to veer. Something else makes the noise of a heartbeat as I drive over ...

Carmel-by-the-Sea

11. November 2013 here now 0
Once, months ago, my family went on vacation. We drove up the coast, to the Best Western  BayView Plus Carmel, at the corner of Ocean and Sixth. This is a perfect place. The ice machine hums by the stairs, the breakfast room serves  sausages and eggs in a stainless steel warmer, and our room, our ...

Gin and Root Beer

03. October 2013 here now 0
A poet, a friend of a friend on Facebook, is unemployed and living in his grandmother’s basement and writing The Unemployment Sonnets. For five dollars, you can commission a poem. My poem is entitled “Gin and Root Beer.” It is about striving and taste and ceiling fans. I lost the envelope already. All I have is a ...

Reading Katy Perry

21. June 2013 here now 4
At the dinner table, my four-year-old girl sings out: “There’s a stranger in my bed! There’s a pounding in my head! Last Friday night!” And I am so busted. “Oh, we don’t listen to that song anymore…” I say, sheepishly. My husband is not convinced. My daughter adores Katy Perry… this.blue.angel at Trop Mag  

Marine Layer

17. June 2013 here now 0
Underneath a heavy June gloom, on a cross street off Sunset Blvd, the sidewalk is pockmarked with the black remains of chewing gum. Is it that people on near-derelict blocks are more likely to spit out their gum? Or is it that such blocks are cleaned so infrequently human waste builds up, a film of ...

Next To Me

10. May 2013 here now 4
Emeli Sandé is singing to herself. To her own talent, to be more exact. We watch from above as she walks into a warehouse. The man next to her — as she sings her song — drums. He keeps the beat. The paint on the floor is worn through. In a palette of blacks and ...