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EGGMAN
When I was a child . . .God, how many times have youheard something prefaced by thoseever frightening words, notscary themselves but whatpainful story they promised. When I was a child we hada milkman who broughtthe glass bottles twice a week,took the empties and envelopewith his payment from theshelf built in the walljust for deliveries.…
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NO BOIL
Not so much watchedas casually gazed at, andnot a pot but a smartphone,which had best not boil. No ring, not this daylost in what, an absentmind, thoughts of self,not unexpected but wanted. Distance real becomesdistance virtual, emptylater explained, wordsof apology, forgiveness but a lingering scar thatwill recede, reappearthat laughter may coverbut never fully erase.
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LIFE, ABBREVIATION
Arrival noted, 11:30 P.M.delivery normal, babyprepared for agency, motherreleased in two days, babyto foster care, thento adoptive parents. No memories, save one,a fall, bathroom, headbleeding, black and whitefloor tile, radiator harderthan child’s skull. Now 70, the same person,a lying mirror each day,a small cemetery, WestVirginia, a headstonea mother finally,a life of mourning.
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WORDS, WORDS, WORDS
My mother surrouned mewith books, “read, read”she would endlessly say. And if I had a question,“Look it up, it’s why webought the encyclopedia.” I became a voracious reader,skilled at finding answers,never stopping to think. Now, years later, I knowwhy I had to read, whyI had to look things up. What she never said, butwhat she…
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LISA, ONCE
A phone call, a lawyer’s clerk:Can you tell me about Lisa Landesman?I pause for that is a name I havenot heard in forty years, savein a poem I once wrote,now long forgotten. She was my sister for twoor three weeks, adopted like I was,and then Mike, my then fatherdropped dead of a massiveheart attack and…
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KYIV
From the moment it began, we knew, it wasobvious that peace and freedom were under assault,Russia had thrown societal norms to the wind. Under gunmetal gray skies they attacked by air,killing women, children, destroying hospitals, homesraining hell on the innocents with nowhere to turn.All we could do was watch, pray and offer paltry aidin the…
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LEILA
At the left click of the mousemy granddaughter appearsbarely a week oldand with a right-clickshe is frozen into the hard drive.I remember sitting outsidethe Buddha Hall of Todai-Ji Templein the mid-morning August sun thesmiling at a baby waiting in her strollerfor her mother to bowto the giant golden Buddha.I recall the soft touchof the young…
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STORY
You are still there. You have a patience that I will not know in this lifetime. I know I can always find you, even though you never reach out to me except in my dreams. There I tell you my life story and you listen intently. You have no need to ask questions, knowing I…
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UNTIL
I was the adoptee,was the whole for years, until. It is always the untilthat is your undoing, wasmine when sheremarried, then two births. I was one third then, neveragain truly whole and whenshe died I discoveredin her will I was onlyone twentieth, andthen never even that. I want to forget her,forget them, denythem, but all…
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STET-US QUO
The mind can bea brutal editor, revisinghistory, rejecting memorieswithout a substantial rewrite. My step sister, many yearsdead remains five, thatyoung face engraftedon the woman ravagedby unrelenting cancers. My first wife of 30 yearsis mostly faceless, themental pictures and dreamsedited until only sheis unrecognizable. And in moments of reflectionI am no longer adopted,the step-siblings were,but they…
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an old writer and his words 