Sunday, July 26, 2009

Dissecting a Frog

Michael Kim’s head was shaved except for two bleached orange bangs that hung in his eyes. “Die, pericardium,” Michael Kim said, hacking through a snotty-yellow membrane. I opened and closed my mouth, then checked off “Pericardium” on our chart. “Die, ventricle,” said Michael Kim. I said, “Um.” Michael Kim turned. His bangs were strangely feminine compared to his leather jacket and toughguy glare. “Wanna buy some Ritilin?” he asked. I gave him $20, which he pocketed before returning to the frog. “Die, Eustacian tubes,” he said, jamming his finger into the gummy throat. I made another check on the form.

Friday, July 24, 2009

ESL classes via skype

“In this future, we have no need for interpersonal interactions. All such communication now takes place over Skype. Once a simple telephone replacement application, Skype now offers one or more parties to interact visually, using off-the-shelf webcams to create video phones that once cost thousands of dollars. Educators may collaborate by sharing slides and data with students.”
“Wait, what about ESL students?”
“What do you mean? They communicate the same way, via the audio/video interface in the Skype application. Distance education couldn’t be simpler!”
“What if they are afraid to speak? What if their culture demands they hide their face?”

Thursday, July 23, 2009

seeing your parents be affectionate

My mother was unfolding the sofa bed, it was late and my visiting grandparents had already retired to my parent’s room. My father was walking up the little staircase into the living room when it happened. This larger than life man, who would catch and hug me when I jumped off those three little stairs, slowly fell behind a recliner like a towel sliding off the rack. My mother rushed to him then left to call an ambulance. I wanted to go as well, to do something important, but he begged me to stay. We sat saying nothing, holding hands.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

dissecting a frog

When our science teacher asks for volunteers to dissect the frog, of course you raise your hand. Knives don’t scare you, you explain, and you want to see exactly how things work. Exactly how. You’re the girl all the boys want to kiss. Maybe you’ve kissed them, too. You have the purple backpack I’ve wanted since September, and maroon chucks that manage to stay both on and untied There’s blue pen marking up your leg in swirls and sea creatures. You walk like you’re not scared of anything, and I want to open you up to see how you work.

San Francisco

Creative Writing 101:
Show don’t tell. Paint the barn. I make a list of the places I’ve lived since you have known me: a tiny white-walled room, the floor covered with books and clothes; an empty house where I watched you watch me come back from my run as the sun was setting over the abalone bay. Now: nowhere; everywhere.

Make a start of the particulars. But suppose the usual particular doesn’t matter?
San Francisco. Brooklyn. Homer. Provincetown. Seattle. Kansas.
Even the verbs aren’t singular: Taste. Claw. Love. Speak. Call.
The specific comes in how we use the words.

dissecting a frog

“Get that scalpel away from me!” The frog wailed.
“Shush, you. Don’t talk to me, please I need to concentrate.” The student replied.
“Don’t I at least get a last request?” The frog implored.
“No! Now quiet, I can’t hear the instructor.”
“Gently remove the amigdala. This part should be retrieved in one piece, it is important to study it separately, whole.” The teacher instructed.
“Hey, no, don’t take that thingy, don’t I need that?” The frog asked.
“Well, yeah probably.”
“Well, what does it do?” The frog said, full of questions.
“Don’t know.”
“Away with it then! Good bye.”

Monday, July 20, 2009

San Francisco

I watched you sleep in the car that night, traveling from Madison to Oshkosh. I know you want to leave Wisconsin and hell, I don’t want to be here either. Unfortunately, here is the only place we will be together so I make the most of it, studying your face as it lay slack jawed against the headrest of my red Chevy Cavalier. I have longed to hear the sounds of sleep bubble out of you. Now they fill the small cabin as we terrorize the freeway. Wherever you move is where I won’t be, you’ll make sure of that.