We’re waiting in line for the midnight showing of Harry Potter 7.2 My daughter has been here with her friend since 11 o’clock, which friend was here from 8 in the morning. I had to talk our way in – my wife and I, and my daughter’s best friend. I’d been trying to talk the …
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Why Do You Clap?
Why do you clap? I spent yesterday in a mild traveler’s disturbia that seems to be our legacy for the future. First the flight was delayed, then after boarding we sat while warning light inconsistencies were investigated, then we were made to get off the plane, then back on, out to the runway, where the …
The Poetry of Ignorance
Why do we willingly watch bad art? What pleasure possibly obtained from viewing William Hung’s savage evisceration of what little musicality remained in Ricky Martin’s opus major? Not once, but dozens and hundreds of viewings as the fabled excrescence was replayed across the land, revisited in American Idol retrospectives, and finally brought to life repeatedly …
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Glance of Sadness
When the abyss stared back at me, I saw an unutterable sadness, a black heart stone which had replaced Pandora’s hope after the doubts and terrors had fled. The loathing and nightmares were protections, I realized, from the inexorable illness at the core of the universe, at the center of our each universe. And I …
The Fever Breaks
A fevered lip burns with a passion and pepper of the moment. After a thought, it bites itself with teeth coated like the candy-stripers who ply their infectious good cheer and reticent good wishes before the imprisoned souls in torments unknown. A pinch — that’s all — and then again the swirling carts go flying …
Make of It What You Will
Laughing at the paradigm of elephants, my throbbing kneecaps speak of the pain and suffering of the great angels we have heard on high. No more time for this sacred pretence of dreams, the latter-day thrombosis is felled with two strokes of the upside-down cake. Pelicans on patrol keep watch on a quiet city, though …
A Difficult Spot
As if the appliances didn’t demand more and more stories though I’m sure they’ve heard them all a dozen times or more, the toaster pops out a request for a story about Lady Lydia. “Please!” he says, “a Lady Lydia story?” But there’s always something else in the way. Today it was a pogo-stick and …
A new hope
Once again taking up pen to virtual paper, agonizing over the first scratches against the unforgiving blankness of the truest messenger of God, we prepare anew to launch into the black seas this small craft. Too little for true sailing, yet disdaining to hug the shoreline, we take bearings a last moment, and then set …
The White Line
From spawn to that moment of clarity,The salmon lives in, through, and with the water.To swim thoughtless to the open seaAnd hunt and hide in the river’s daughter,And to wend its way back again,Borne by ancient yearning,Is fused within eye, tail, scale, and fin —To evermore be returning.Shining in the dappled sunOr nestled in cloudy …