“Wit as thick as Tewksbury mustard.”
-William Shakespeare
The Simile Museum
February 26, 2019
“The city is an extension not strong enough for its own weight. The final crust on the edge of a peninsula, stuck out at the edge of the ocean like a dare–the kind that you know you won’t live through but that you go for anyway because you’re young and you don’t give a shit and there’s no backing down. But the city is old. It keeps daring itself not to bury its dead.”
-Gabrielle Lucille Fuentes
February 12, 2019
“Inside the upper deck of the barge is my home, with a bed that splits apart like kindling and the rest an attic of dusty, dried up paints and paintings. Most of them I’ve turned toward the wall.”
-Paige Cooper
February 1, 2019
“From the second floor he faces the night, the city in its icy white light, the skeletal trees in the square, and thirty feet below, the black arrowhead railings like a row of spears.”
-Ian McEwan
January 13, 2019
“There are touches like bridles you can kick away, and then there are touches that startle you into temporary submission, like the universe catching its breath: body against stunned body, mind against bright mind. A sudden snare of recognition. Wildness regarding itself.”
-Amy Bonnaffons
December 12, 2018
“Sunrise was heating the ring of the horizon
and clouds were rising like leaves.”
-Derek Walcott
December 2, 2018
“There is something feckless about a writer’s journals. They are a specialist’s document, and those who parse their pages are like grooming baboons, searching for fleas.”
-Dustin Illingworth
