Featured
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of November 9, 2025
David Himmel
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of November 9, 2025
David Himmel

Kids who had race car beds probably grew up to work in finance with an inflated ego, a coke habit, and wildly premature ejaculation issues. But for that moment in third grade, they were gods.

Read More →
David Himmel

 

If I Die in Hospice
David Himmel, Poetry David Himmel David Himmel, Poetry David Himmel

If I Die in Hospice

In the instance where my life does not end
Me out there sailing through a sudden squall or
failing to outrun the authorities after a good-natured display of public violence

If I happen to fall victim of illness or extreme age
And die under the care of hospice,
A few things must occur
Lest I haunt this overheated watery rock for eternity

Play the hits.

Read More
pANDEMIC eCCENTRIC
Poetry Guest User Poetry Guest User

pANDEMIC eCCENTRIC

I hope things never go back to how they were. That normal wasn’t normal. Lost to digitized history seemed to be leisure with gravity, interstitial tranquility. The accuracy of vacancy. Nilness.

I want to lose track of days and check the time only to be surprised at the lateness of the hour. Dusk looming, innocent as a satellite.

Read More
The Sound of Clanging and Indoor Soccer Games
David Himmel, Poetry David Himmel David Himmel, Poetry David Himmel

The Sound of Clanging and Indoor Soccer Games

There’s far too much noise
and I can’t tell if it’s coming from the neighbors upstairs
or just the usual clanging in my head.
I don’t hear the clanging as often or as loudly as I used to.
I suppose that’s a good thing.

But right now, with the baby put down, the puppy mellow and asleep on the warm mountain of clean clothes on the couch, and the wife off visiting a friend, the familiar clanging is as loud as it once was.
And I feel like a bachelor.
That means now is the perfect time to clean.

Read More
Holding My Son as We’re Violently Burned to Death
David Himmel, Poetry David Himmel David Himmel, Poetry David Himmel

Holding My Son as We’re Violently Burned to Death

But, son, I was not lying when I said I’d do anything to protect you.
Anything to keep you safe.
Sometimes that meant watching you put yourself in harm’s way.
Life is pointless without risk.
Sometimes it meant watching you get your heart broken
or hearing your bones break from the bleacher seats on the sidelines.
Harm and hurt, you see, are unfortunately, required of us.
The Universe demands it.
They are two of the many ways we learn and become stronger, better people.
Or so I always tried to be better
and I hope that I instilled that desire in you.

Read More
I am a (Hu)Man of Items Not Action
David Himmel, Poetry David Himmel David Himmel, Poetry David Himmel

I am a (Hu)Man of Items Not Action

I use a weighted blanket and melatonin chews to get a good night’s rest instead of going to bed earlier and committing to a bedtime wind down routine.

I use a bidet instead of learning the proper way to wipe my ass clean.

I use a juicer to lose weight instead of balancing my diet and exercising more.

Read More
What’s an Mp3 Again?
David Himmel, Poetry David Himmel David Himmel, Poetry David Himmel

What’s an Mp3 Again?

We had finished lunch at Arby’s.
Then took me to his place, which was his parents’.
A lovely home decorated in northeastern Americana
heavy on the light houses. 

His bedroom looked like the bedroom of a twenty-year-old
who lived with his parents
and attended a university a fifteen-minute drive away.
Ten minutes longer than his commute to high school.

Read More