by phoenix | Sep 3, 2004 | Uncategorized
for my grandfather, Sydney Levine, on the night of his death In the end, his bird-like hands Clutched to his chest, skin like vellum. It is on that parchment we write our stories, On this man we weave our tales. He is our silent audience, breath shallow,...
by phoenix | Sep 3, 2004 | Poetry, Uncategorized
for my grandfather, Sydney Levine, on the night of his death In the end, his bird-like hands Clutched to his chest, skin like vellum. It is on that parchment we write our stories, On this man we weave our tales. He is our silent audience, breath shallow,...
by phoenix | Sep 3, 2004 | Uncategorized
I’m just exhausted. New job, idiot who backed over my bike and dealing with the insurance, flooded house, teaching, the tension of this waiting for Grandpa to go (14 days no food now), the paper I’m supposed to be preparing for the conference in...
by phoenix | Aug 31, 2004 | Uncategorized
Back in Melbourne, I am drained but content. Today, I was short-tempered. I feel frayed at the edges. Three classes later, and I drag myself home. I am toying with the idea of ordering in. I am looking forward to my own space:...
by phoenix | Aug 29, 2004 | Uncategorized
Thus starts what is almost an entirely different weekend, in an entirely parallel universe: Brandon and I drive up to the mountains, talking all the way. In the morning, we sleep in, wander around Katoomba, head for Blackheath and hike down to Victoria...
by phoenix | Aug 27, 2004 | Uncategorized
Midday thursday (deadline day) I get a call from my aunt: Grandpa has taken a sudden turn for the worse. The afternoon is a blur of flight changes and trying to concentrate on the issue at hand. My aunt suggests I call the ward and she’ll...
