Skip to content

Dreamers Reading Room

Bowling

Bachelor Party

Sometimes it comes in fits and starts and sometimes all at once in a deluge, but when you’re edging thirty years old, riding passenger…

Sunporch

The Sunporch

“Your garden is like a park,” my mother-in-law would say when she came to visit us in Wisconsin from her home in Canada. It was a…

Window Sunshine

Bipolar, Diagnosis – Two Poems

The doctor adjusts his glasses, tells me the news. There isn’t much else. I leave the muted-colored office and beat my hands on the steering wheel.

The Other Eleven Months of the Year

I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder (BPD) in 1991 at thirty years-old, following my second suicide attempt. Individuals who have BPD lack the ability to…

Annie

Caleb was a sweet boy, with black hair and freckles, whose left leg was in a brace, causing the other kids to taunt him without mercy. Caleb’s best…

Little Stars

David and I were still awake at 3 am. The moon wasn’t full, that wasn’t the reason, but the Perseids were doing their August trick, showering meteors like streaks of sleep dust from the sandman, mocking us.

The Oppressor and the Oppressed Within

Days shy of my fortieth birthday, attended a class with master writing teacher Laleh Khadivi: in San Francisco at Christina Garcias’s Las Dos Brujas. A new meaning emerged…