top of page
pigeon (2)


I run with Kaiser and Mary Kate through downtown Madison, my first run since moving here 

The earlier day had rain blowing sideways that reminded me of home 

But the day was gone and with it the moisture, save for our periodic puffs of window fogger

We run to the student union and I touch memories from the week 

The vibrant and vibrating energy of Diwali dances, A Midsummer Night's Dream in song

My life as a college student steeped in a hot pot of fish and spice 

When we get back to Kaiser's, he gives me the book Talking to Strangers, by Malcolm Gladwell

To review for our book club / potluck that weekend

Malcolm Gladwell says in his book that people “default to truth”

That we believe others and who they say they are, until overwhelming evidence makes us unable

I slip the book into my flannel jacket and jog home, still warm all over

In between the blotches of my wispy wheezes in the cold November night

I imagine being approached by a person on the street. They hold a weapon to me

Adrenaline slows down time and makes me myopic, I become all instinct

As I fumble in my mind with what to do, I see that they are wearing my same flannel jacket

I stop in the street and I reach in my pocket 

Hoping I can open my heart as freely as I tell myself I would

Hoping it’s enough for them to believe 

And when they accept my everything, I think of The Pigeon

Wonder what the warmest way is to invite someone to try anew

And I extend my arm and ask "Do you like books?"

bottom of page