What Direction Now? Life at the intersection…

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Crying Out (Loud)

C

Slide the crying toddler aside with one hand and with the other stroke his hair, saying, “Look! See there!” and pointing at a yawning cat to distract him from the stacks of shattered plates and broken bowls. Show the boy a songbird singing or a crystal raindrop falling from a cotton cloud, hanging down from a string of silk, skillfully gathered long ago by his grandmother’s...

What’s the plural of hiatus? (hiati?)

W

So, the holidays brought me back home again to Indiana…and they also saw a steep drop-off in (published) production. I still did some work, but none that will see the light of day here (or ever?). Any way, I hope your New Year was happy. And, even more, I hope it will continue to be so. I don’t really believe in resolutions (I’m pretty resolute in this), so I won’t make...

My Ro-Blog (a semi-intelligent attempt to understand the artificial)

M

Hello, friends! I started another blog called SubsonicSonatas, a site about robots and how much I don’t know about them. I will publish there pretty consistently throughout the fall and then sporadically thereafter (at least, that’s the plan anyway). But, don’t you worry. I’ll still be posting some stuff here as well (also sporadically). Thanks as always for reading...

What Now?

W

Hello? A sound slung lowly, slowly, into the echo chamber. I’ve moved and moved back (and moved again)—and so has the site itself since its last listed entry. Unfortunately, some bits were lost in transit, musings mine no more, set free like doves or bubbles to float again among their brethren in the ether. Some lines might have lived on, survived to flourish elsewhere but didn’t...

Writing Hippos

W

Hippo friendships, based solely on which chips and dips have fallen off the passing ships that day. They play and play until fried potatoes falling from ketchup-colored skies cause them to fetch their nets and forget about their games. Once  inflamed with crispy salty lust, it’s just a matter of time before these underwater blimps begin to glimpse the understanding that there simply never...

Who is the “you”?

W

Flip the bird and let it fly free so that I can finally see how vulgar these fragile temples actually are, so-called inviolate vestment hangers, going on and on about how violence is wrong, all the while chain smoking, drain licking, fever dream frenzy pills popping like steel bubbles bouncing off the brain, no more violence or pain, comes the chanted refrain even while we welcome the most...

Oh, Hello…

O

Oh, Hello, yes, but wait, you should know before we start that I’m really here to sell you this line: the end of everything is in the air. Yeah, so, I’m no salesman for sure but if somehow you bought that one, here’s one more for free: nothing really ever ends if it never stops moving, that is, if air is there to wind it up and never let it down. Ok, now, repair back to the...

(How I) WriteNow

(

When the pit boiling out the center of me licks up, spits its pitch to coat and sizzle, soak up into my brain stem, again again lapping back, coating coating, thick and unrelenting, until the walls will suddenly give out, slough off and slip down my shoulder blades, down through my elbows, soldering joints along the way, slowing the further it down it rolls, crawls, creeps an inch per night...

Merry Christmas! Here’s To Many More…

M

(by Relient K) I made it through the year and I did not even collapse Gotta say, “Thank God, for that” I’m torn between what keeps me whole and what tears me in half I’ll fall apart or stay intact With tired eyes I stumble back to bed I need to realize my sorry life’s not hanging by a thread At least not yet So look at me now Its finally Christmas and I’m home...

Do Not Open…

D

…until Christmas! I’m taking a break from blogging through the 25th. Please don’t cry. It was about time to recharge and regroup anyway… Thank you so much for so often taking the time to read what I have to say here! Please know that I’m thankful for you and excited to see what the next year of life (and writing) brings! Have a merry Christmasday! See you here...

What Direction Now? Life at the intersection…

About Andrew.

Andrew Cartwright grew up in Indianapolis, IN, but has lived over the years in such places as Denver, CO; Fairfax, VA; and Rivne, Ukraine. He is a former nonfiction editor for both Indiana Review and phoebe; he has also worked for the intersectional feminist journal, So To Speak, and the national literary magazine, Electric Literature. His work has appeared in The Normal School Online, Copper Nickel, Esquire Ukraine, Literary Hub, and Word Riot.

For more information about me and links to other writing, visit my author page at cartwriter.com

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