Trey White

Starless Night

I think I’m afraid of love. I realized it this morning while I was sitting alone in my living room. “Who is going to find you when it happens?” I thought. “You’re gonna drop dead in here one day and no one is going to know about it

Gnats and Peanut Butter

Tonight, after a quiet evening reading and drinking green tea with honey and lemon (grandmotherly I know. But still, these biddies are onto something), I sat my mug down on the counter with the last sip of the honey-goldened brew coating the bottom. I have a gnat infestation. Disgusting,

Bad Clouds

I’m an air sign. A libra. I don’t really even know what any of that means, that's just how it is. It’s rainin’ tonight in the A. A rainy Monday in June. I feel strangely connected to the rain. Maybe that’s cause she’s

Blue Days

For Meme Meme called them her, “blue days.” I didn’t know what that meant then, but I remember her sayin’ it. “Meme, are you all right?” Momma would ask. “Oh yes, dahlin’. I’m just havin’ one of my blue days. I’m all right.” Now I know. I

Caught in the rain

I’m naked at my bar. Clothes on the floor. Wet. I got caught in the rain. It’s that time of year in the A. Movin’ into June. It was a pop-up shower. And it just caught me. Cold drop after cold drop. And I just stopped.   I’

Phffft—

There’s a lot to contemplate over a pickle jar, fridge door ajar, wasting energy— energy the EPA doesn’t really care about anymore— in the quiet of my condo downtown.   It got me today. It hasn’t in a while. But somehow, standing over that open jar, plunging my

6, 8, and 14 Athenians

I have the boys tonight—my nephews.                                                           The last time I saw them, Nono (6) said, “Three, when are we gonna stay at your house?” “I will come get you next weekend,” I told him. It’ll be a blink before they aren’t asking me those questions anymore. Busy

Ticking Time Bombs

My fucking A/C panel broke last night. She just died—reset—died—reset—died— and so on. Meanwhile it was getting warmer in the condo. I don’t do “hot”—not temperature-wise anyway. My home is arctic, and I like it that way.   I hate it when things

Tarragon

For my Momma, and for my Gran   I like tarragon best of all the herbs. She don’t pussyfoot around. You’re either for her or you’re not. There’s no warmup. No middle. Just love me or don’t, baby. She’s just fine either way. Maybe it’

Oregano & Lavender

For M Lavender…bitchy queen. Have you ever tried to grow a lavender plant? Well— It seems simple. Full sun. Drought hardy. Well-draining soil. Water— Now here’s where we screw the pooch. Lavender needs water. But only so much water. Too much, she dies. Too little, she fries.

The Art of Directing Traffic

We like bookends, don’t we? Us, humans. We want a clean wrap. A bow on it all. I’ve spent all my life chasing bows— hell, maybe there is one somewhere out there for me.   I don’t really know if I want a bookend anyway. I haven’t

Doing dishes

I don’t know who came up with those stupid, “dance like no one is watching” signs. You don’t “dance like no one is watching.” You dance when no one is watching. In the kitchen— While you’re putting up dishes. Maybe to Prince. Or Britney. Or Madonna. Or