Regret Is A Pilgrimage Back To The

No, I Don’t Have To Tell A Soul About This, I Promised Myself. When You Are A Kid, You Don’t Know Yet That A Secret, Like An Animal, Can Evolve. Like An Animal, A Secret Can Develop A Self-preserving Intelligence. Shaglike, Mute And Thick, A Knowledge With A Fur: Your Secret.

At The End Of The Block Where I Used To Live In Coconut Grove In Miami, There's A Swampy Area, A No-name Alcove With A Little Mangrove Estuary. It's Beautiful.

Granana Doesn't Understand What The Big Deal Is. She Didn't Cry At Olivia's Funeral, And I Doubt She Even Remembers Olivia's Name. Granana Lost, Like, Ninety-two Million Kids In Childbirth. All Of Her Brothers Died In The War. She Survived The Depression By Stealing Radish Bulbs From Her Neighbors' Garden, And Fishing The Elms For Pigeons. Dad Likes To Remind Us Of This In A Grave Voice, As If It Explained Her Jaundiced Pitilessness: "boys. Your Grandmother Ate Pigeons."

My Older Sister Has Entire Kingdoms Inside Of Her, And Some Of Them Are Only Accessible At Certain Seasons, In Certain Kinds Of Weather.

I Hope That In My Thirties I Grow As A Writer, Push Into New Territory.