It’s all in the background.  In Jo Ann Beard’s 1998 memoir The Boys of My Youth, pristine physical descriptions and a wry sense of humor sit up front. Her writing is a virtuosic display of wit and attentiveness—a figure skater…
Jonathan Lyrics Jonathan Jonathan, oh Jonathan, you make me feel young again, like I’m something beautiful, worthy of the time you spend. Take me in your strongman arms, pull me close, dancing. Look at me the way they don’t, with…
Painting above by Agnus Martin This essay goes deeper into the ideas covered by my most recent musical release Salt. You can listen to it here. “Come on down and claim your prize/ It’s nothing like they advertise.†— John…
Salt Salt I need somebody to touch me There’s salt in sweat, there’s salt in tears; taste it when our tongues meet, our teeth puncturing the flesh Like tiny Roman spears. Reaffirm existence when your skin is tight against mine,…
Movement MOVEMENT (Text Version) A fresh can cracks the sun up We’re at a Marriott, Make-shift table in the parking lot. Ironed shirts heading off to work Staring at us Don’t think it rained all night Pavement was still…
Note: This essay is a companion piece to the new live recording of my song “Softer†– available now. My relationship with my mother has never been stable. I understand she loves me, but I have never felt that she…
I’m so terribly human most times i let my fears win and there are truths, right things to do but don’t heavyweight at waiting and doing nothing to change answers way in the deep end i depend instead on…
“At sundown it feels like I’m riding a train I’m not onâ€Â These are the first words we hear from Craig Finn, incanting the phrase twice above pulsating synthesizers and acoustic guitar as the band opens Messing With The Settings….
The tymbals of cicadas can still be heard, filling fading heat with their static. Gradually, you begin to see them too. Tepidly at first, then, in abundance as September’s cooling hands ease in. They sit motionless, fossilizing on sidewalks, in…
Softer try not to hide or lie behind everything gets softer with time try not to wait or move in gates or make this a song the angels sang it was beautiful in ugly rot it was here…