• PIERCING

    It is a simple two pronged pin, steel, a circle around the letter U.S. It has sat in my jewelry box since the day I clutched the DD-214, hung up the two or three uniform items I didn’t turn over to Goodwill, and filed the paperwork with the VA. Every month, when the VA Disability…


  • SLIP SLIDING AWAY

    Merriam-Webster declared me an orphan yesterday morning, when my father slipped away from his morphine dreams. Some would argue I cannot be an orphan at my age, that is a sanctuary reserved for children, but I am long past admitting my age, and my behavior gives no lie to my claim of childhood. I will…


  • UNTO EACH GENERATION

    Years later on, having walked calmly away from my former faith, I am left still pondering where you find the words to describe, to teach the unspeakable, and how you use them to reach children who have no right to know the unspeakable, but who must, lest they later speak it. It was a generation…


  • HAT

    It is hard for even me to remember that there once was a time when every man wore at hat, whether a simple watch cap or Greek fisherman’s hat, a fedora to be avoided if you value your life, a bowler of great propriety. I wear a simple Nepalese hat a reversible pillbox style, and…


  • WRITTEN ON WATER

    Tomorrow this poem will most assuredly no lnger be here, though when during the night it will slip away, never again to be seen, I don’t know or perhaps it will return in a form I would not recognize, re-crafted by the hand of an unseen editor. It may take on a meaning unfamiliar, or…


  • SENĀTUS POPULUSQUE RŌMĀNUS

    As we walked slowly through the Forum the Coliseum receding into the late afternoon, the Virgins stood patiently as befits a priestess trained to avoid the stares of passing men, even tourists such as we were, the columns staring down reminding us of our youth despite the birthdays that we celebrated with the joy of…


  • HUP TWO

    In his dreams he is still marching across endless paved paths on an Air Force Base that might be Texas or might just be hell. In his recollection, in July there is virtually no difference between the two. He stirs each time his Drill Instructor bellows, which is every few minutes, likely seconds in this…


  • FUTURE HISTORY

    The history of modern literature, at least to those who purport to create it, is inextricably tied up with technology. The quill and inkwell ceded only reluctantly to the fountain pen and ballpoint. Foolscap was affixed to corkboard by countless pushpins, but one wasn’t a teal writer until one stuck in the sole of your…


  • A CLIO MOMENT

    Each morning I should take a moment and seriously question whether I have any history or should want any. Each day I know in that moment that I have the option of being reborn, of being someone who never existed before, and the price of this is shedding all of my former selves, an erasure…


  • RINZAI PLANTS A PINE 鐵笛倒吹 十八

    If you have a seed in your pocket what will you do with it? Even a small seed planted carefully in the middle of a forest may take hold and grow. Tamp the soil with your toe three time, three times again secure in knowing this tree will never provide you shade. A reflection on…