Near South Bridge they saw a party of drunk men with torches in the rain. The men were crowded around a small heap, of what they couldn’t tell. The men kicked it occasionally, jeering, pushing each other in show. A sharp-pitched cry escaped the heap and the men whooped louder. That’s what she told me.ContinueContinue reading “South Bridge”
Author Archives: Tanya Meeson
The Door.
40 questions to Bette D, a direct transcript of the interview dated 11 Aug 2013, 14 hours before her death 1. WHAT TYPE OF BIRTH DID YOU HAVE?How would I know. Most important day of your godsdamn life and not two brain cells aware enough to bump together. Probably a good thing. What a godsdamnContinueContinue reading “The Door.”
Sink
I was in Savasana today after a Bikram session that took me far away and deep. I’ve been thinking about you a lot these past few days and while I was lying in that heat, that heat that seems to draw every last memory from my bones to sweat them out from my skin, IContinueContinue reading “Sink”
Pabo, who is alone
Old man death, you stand before my door and I have no food to offer, no children to give, no goat to bleed, no tears to weep. Old man death, you stand before my door and bid me enter you in, but I am weak and cannot fight for the time you take. ContinueContinue reading “Pabo, who is alone”
enmeshment
A dark moon rose in your face the day you told me this wasn’t your place; this wasn’t: your desire, your need, your aim and with every letter your love was tamed until all I had was a box of regretful lines, apologies and grace until all our future became a hard ugly waste. ContinueContinue reading “enmeshment”
TANYA MEESON 