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THE CLASSICS
He says he has always hated classical music,and would rather listen to nails dragged across a chalkboard.He has been out of school for many years so Isuspect he no longer realizes what nailson a chalkboard really sounds like, how evenopera, which I can’t tolerate, would be preferable.He rattles off a list of composers he despises,Mozart,…
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TEMPUS
He divided time into neat,well organized segments, eachprecisely the equivalent of each other,some the perfect sum of lessers.This is how it should be and must behe thought, and it made thingsso much easier for him.He knew when to arrive, andalways knew precisely whattime it was and would be.He couldn’t understand whyothers couldn’t seem to arriveon…
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A SONG FOR A LOVER
It is hard, looking back, to recalljust how many hours I spent searchingwith a fair amount of diligence for justthe right song to express my love.Most often I would find it,but only after that love had beenreplaced by another, demandinga new song — you cannot usethe same song for two different loves,that crosses well over…
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BARGING IN
It would help, she said, if you would stop imagining your life as a barge moving slowly down the Mississippi River, one in an endless procession, following like so many lemmings looking without hope of finding a cliff. Yes, she adds, from time to time one may break free, it happens but you have to…
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THE RABBI
The old man peers at the yellowing book then places it on the arm of the chair. He gives the walker a sad, angry look, and still struggling, looks up in mocking prayer. Clutching the book, he limps to the table and sinks onto the chair, risking a fall that could reshatter his hip. Unable…
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TUESDAY TRUTH: THE SPRATTS
I mean, seriously, did anyone really think that the Spratt marriage would ultimately last? Sure, the first couple of years were imagined bliss. And sure, their dietary desires did help them avoid almost all waste. But that big a difference, even if only seemingly in eating habits, foretells differences in other areas of life. He…
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DEMENTIA
He can remember it as though it was just yesterday. Actually it was just yesterday, but for him that had little to do with memory. Bits of his childhood would come flooding back: the city, the cousins who took him in for the few dollars his mother could offer. But his grandsons are a vague…
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KIKE
Third grade, religious school kikes, us, then a backhand raised, drawn, quickly dropped, below a reddened face, sleeve pulled up 145233 in black between elbow and wrist and a tear, perched fearing to fall. Never again, and nothing more, later, same arm ruffling hair, smoke clinging to aging skin, no older when he walked in…
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FINALS
It was approaching the end of another too long semester and the sign-up sheet for office hours was getting fuller with names I didn’t recognize, or did and not in a way that would please the student. It was always like this, the two weeks after it was too late to do anything, when the…
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CALLER
It’s Sunday, so I know, before long I will have the nagging thought that I should call my mother. I’ve had this thought for years, once acted upon it with regularity, listened patiently for her weekly list of things I needed to help her with, since I never visited to do the work with her…
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an old writer and his words 