Tag Archives: Mark Kerstetter

Limits

There’s so much I wanted to tell you and now that it’s hurricane season so much has ended already. Too many threads trail through the doors and windows. Better to snap them off, I said. But let’s not call it … Continue reading

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Limits

The days run together. Call it diarrhea. Or logorrhea. Once you’ve snapped your pet phrases in two they’re not even half as good as the old days when you were too young to know better than to stretch yourself early … Continue reading

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Limits

Time may be a human invention but death isn’t. Should it seem odd that we can even conceive infinity? But without that concept would there be any others? Would thought even be possible? The brain can’t work with limits. It … Continue reading

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Limits

Weak blandishment, crude tally, our timecards track hours only. Whatever’s left over is what it is. Or is that what comes before? I can never remember. Half-full or half-empty, who gives a shit if only a full glass will quench? … Continue reading

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Spring Training

Living without incident for days at a stretch yet conditioned to retain a readiness to tighten casual manners— On the rack of good behavior after air-drying jackhammers & linen and then to a sit-down lunch: chopped lion in a lamb’s … Continue reading

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Small Talk

Strands of confabulations vein the trees, bending and waving: the sap that holds together the muck. And it works, but the result is we do not touch. Remember when dad seemed so tall, so strong, a giant? And everyone else … Continue reading

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Art as a Wheel

A world seems to tumble       off the fingertips every time the hand reaches out to touch       any particular thing. Is this why circles       are among the earliest known art forms?       I see the circle drawers as the first obsessive/compulsives;       may … Continue reading

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