Such A Small, Pure Object A Poem

If Dysfunction Means That A Family Doesn't Work, Then Every Family Ambles Into Some Arena In Which That Happens, Where Relationships Get Strained Or Even Break Down Entirely. We Fail Each Other Or Disappoint Each Other. That Goes For Parents, Siblings, Kids, Marriage Partners - The Whole Enchilada.

Sure The World Breeds Monsters, But Kindness Grows Just As Wild.

I Kept The Fingers Of My Left Hand Crossed All The Time, While On My Right-hand Fingers I Counted Anything At All—steps To The Refrigerator, Seconds On The Clock, Words In A Sentence—to Keep My Head Occupied. The Counting Felt Like Something To Hang On To, As If Finding The Right Numbers Might Somehow Crack The Code On Whatever System Ran The Slippery Universe We Were Moving Through.

The Failures Of Other Genres To Provide An Emotional Connection With Some Of Their Characters And Narratives Gives Memoir A Toehold.

The Emotional Stakes A Memoirist Bets With Could Not Be Higher, And It's Physically Enervating. I Nap On A Daily Basis Like A Cross-country Trucker.