What Direction Now? Life at the intersection…

Sign of the Times – Open Mic


“Open Mic Night Fridays @ 8”

too late for me, sitting here, sipping green tea, trying to simply witness, to fit this brain of mine back behind my eyes. I want to write, but to my left, two ladies chat, forth and back, with high loud voices. I have to hear them, no choice, as their peaks reach me even through my ear phones. If I weren’t so blurry, like the steamed window dripping to my right, I might leave or at least question myself for staying. But, I’ve waited too long already for this place, my seat, this space where if I sit up straight enough, I can see the dinosaur on the wall across from me. I’d call it T-Rex but I’d never be so bold to assume a silhouette could reveal a name, let alone a soul. The French get all the pretty words, don’t they, then give all the pretty words away whether they want to or not. I should have thought twice before I tethered these clouds of mine to a pole and let them drown the whole desert, until water met sky. I’ll still stay dry here, behind this window, blindly winding my watch hands as slow as I possibly can, but still so much faster than time, than the tick. I hate that line, actively, but like the idea well enough, and maybe that enough can be, well, enough for now.
Person Man, Person Man, hit on the head with a frying pan…

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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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A Day at a Time…

December 2019
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