LEAVETAKING, A GUIDE by Ellen Ritterberg

When, thrust out of, rousted from billowy somnolence, while nuzzled, nosed into by heat-seeking missile while asleep, their protestations, imprecations ignored, and   all demurrals having failed, some women do what they feel they must do and give in.   The giant enters.   Once goaded, Compliant, docile bulls, they remain silent except for maybe a snort or two which may just be breathing.… Read More “LEAVETAKING, A GUIDE by Ellen Ritterberg”


When the crow pixilates the bricks of the building no longer look bricks or even brick-like or some approximation thereof they look like velvet or is it velveteen wish I knew Wish I could create a word for every word that autocorrects creates for me opportunity for self-exploration or if not that then clarification of what I might mean counterintuitive though it might be autocorrection qua thought howsoever non-original it may not be The writing of it, the simultaneity of it, the whole hog full engagement thereof in the writing that is if you dig if you follow me that forces me to formulate the meaning of trees not the oxygenation or other life forms and humans the gaseous cycle or however that CO2 oxygen exchange tap dance works, the oxygen just out there for the taking or was or used to be with emphasis on the past and if not, what function might the term urban blight serve except to remind we are oxygen deprived clean air as dodo bird air as unwonted speck in the eye particulate matter perpetual glacial calving magma stewing.… Read More “WHEN THE CROW PIXILATES ON THE IMAGE by Ellen Ritterberg”