Periphery People
He sings along as he weighs my onions.
Category Archives: Hungary
Stickers in a Boomer Neighborhood
I begin to think about the time it takes for a tree to grow in a courtyard.
Terminal Restlessness
But grown women usually don’t wail on an eight-hour flight over the Atlantic.
To All the Twenties I’ve Been Before
Dear twenty-seven-year-old Caroline,
Quit your job.
Life After the Second Year
What if we chose to invest like we’ll be here for ten years or more, and that investment became a reality?
Putting My Underwear on Backwards
Perhaps my first mistake was expecting that I would ever entirely grow out of it.
Twenty-nine
So Happy Birthday, Kendahl, and cheers to twenty-nine. This year is going to be the best one yet.
To Clean Out a Room
I don’t like change, and I am an anxious person. Nice to meet you.
Returning (A Love Letter)
First, this is a poem to say thank you
for taking me back to Budapest.
Help Is a Four-Letter Word
I scour the wall for any ledges, any possible edge to rest a hand or foot. Nothing. The drop to the next balcony I would guess is eight feet. Not impossible.
