Ways We Are Lost, an Up to Date Blog

I am in the process of setting up a professional website under my name for my writing CV.  This blog will no longer be updated after that one is set up.

However, I do have another blog here: WaysWeAreLost

So, please feel free to subscribe there if you are looking to read more from me that is not professionally oriented toward my CV and publication announcements.

Love,

S

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Notes from the Train: New Rochelle to Grand Central Terminal

New Rochelle train station:

Sitting next to a girl with leggings and two bags that look like they were made out of carpet. Her hair is wet, though it’s so cold, I cannot write without gloves on. She keeps the phone in her hand, texting. Always texting. Then a man walks by with sunglasses, a black backpack and sneakers with the tonge rolled down. He keeps saying,. Really? Really? Hello? Can you hear me? Next to him a young woman, tight blue jeans, tennis shoes with the tongue also rolled down, hair long, in streaks of blonde and black, popping bubble gum, carrying a black trash bag that crinkles as she shuffles from one foot to the next.

The “hello, can you hear me?” man breaks into a smile., throws his head back and laughs.

On train now:

Most people on their phones. There’s an advertisement for Calr F. Bucherer watch. A model in front of an ocean-view window saying She’s not afraid of getting older–but who would be if they could afford that watch? And an ocean front view.

The train rocks, while a woman talks about Baltimore. The other advertisement shows a business man pulling a carry-on on an icy New England road. Cold? it asks. The PGA tour is going to Meixco–and below, men in pastel polos swing a golf club next to white sands and palm trees on a resort course.

No one on this train looks like they would want to go swing clubs in Mexico.

Two young men in thick Bronx accents talk about how so and so needs to get a fuckin’ job. One looks very beautiful but he just got off. Fordham station is next.

A little girl about five climbs over her father and plays over the seats, then she leaps into the window side, palms flat on the window, signs a deep sigh and swings back over to her father, wraps her arms around his neck.

Her father wears square framed glasses, half balding, expressive eyebrows, a kind, always-almost-smiling mouth.

I keep thinking I’ll run into someone. That perhaps I’ll find a spark. My mind doesn’t work. My heart hasn’t said anything.

The always-half-smiling man is still half smiling, just this site makes my day better. Just seeing him, his bouncy daughter and there’s a little boy as well.

There’s a train passing by us, for once, all of our lives are parallel, actually parallel.

We get to glimpse into the windows of each other’s trains, not even knowing who is who. If someone cried, we wouldn’t know.

I like this half smiling man. He’s made my day and he will never know it. I wonder if I’ve ever been that stranger for someone else.

 

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Driving into a Dustorm, Deja Vu

Yesterday, the same horse stood
In the same place, same color, palomino

Angel in the mesquite reminding me
Of my failures. I have only two hands

The rest of my life. In Rankin, Texas,
An old train station is now a home

For the departed ones, Jesus, who left
Their mothers, drinking rivers, heroine

Or God in visions. Maybe they want
The same thing I do—to be alone

When the great horse enters the valley,
When everyone fails their humanity

In the same place, same way, beautifully.

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The Thrush Relinquished by Allen Grossman

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May 22, 2013 · 4:58 am

Exciting News / Updates

I have been nominated, thanks to Boiler Journal, for a Best American Poets.

 

Also, a poem of mine was selected as a finalist for the Devil’s Lake Driftless Prize in Poetry! I will post the link when it comes out.

I am currently working on making a page on here to keep track and update my online and print publications over the years. This is something I have been needing to do for a while. Look for that, soon.

Also, as I will post on my Hummingbird Mind Blog, the book is now out! And I have been blessed with two great reviews / interviews so far. One interview appeared in the Huffington Post, which is amazing! And the other review was posted on Tell Tell Poetry called 20 Reasons to buy Hummingbird Mind by Shannon Elizabeth Hardwick

 

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The Man With Gold Between His Legs

THE MAN WITH GOLD BETWEEN HIS LEGS

chewing saltine crackers on the side
of a highway in June, two roosters
beside him, one hen. A witch leaves
grief in a red truck in Orla, Texas
hanging by the neck on a pipeline
right-of-way—his daddy bargained
daughters for oil, the earth, his ashes
for a God to survey his property,
limbs, shed, homestead—strung out
on meth and strippers and his shame
gives him release through myths,
waterways, forgiveness.

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Gatsby & Shannon Read a Poem

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April 4, 2013 · 4:32 am