I like cancelled plans. And empty bookstores. I like rainy days and thunderstorms. And quiet coffee shops. I like messy beds and over-worn pajamas. Most of all, I like the small joys that a simple life brings.


caught you, liar.

lied through your teeth,

without batting an eyelid.

and might I say, with no seemingly obvious purpose.

merely doing this to ruin another’s impression of me would have been petty.

wasn’t I a worthwhile ally?

you aren’t very smart, are ye.

Oh my God, what if you wake up some day, and you’re 65, or 75, and you never got your memoir or novel written; or you didn’t go swimming in warm pools and oceans all those years because your thighs were jiggly and you had a nice big comfortable tummy; or you were just so strung out on perfectionism and people-pleasing that you forgot to have a big juicy creative life, of imagination and radical silliness and staring off into space like when you were a kid? It’s going to break your heart. Don’t let this happen.

Carry Me Daddy, 1989 My Father Could Walk in the Sky, 1989


Duane Michals - Carry Me Daddy, 1989 (top); My Father Could Walk in the Sky, 1989 (bottom)

Text in the photographs:

Carry Me Daddy, 1989

Carry me daddy, all the way home. 
I’ll lean on your shoulder, even after I’ve grown. 
And when me get there, tuck me in bed. 
I’ll still be your son, even after you’re dead. 
While I am dreaming, sing me a tune. 
A song of my birthright, the sun and the moon.

My Father Could Walk in the Sky, 1989

My father could walk in the sky.
He promised to teach me how.
But he left without saying goodbye.
I don’t cry.
I’m a grown up now.

See more Duane Michals posts here.