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I have never beento Liszkowo but I have beento Charleston, West Virginiaand visited the B’nai Jacob Cemeteryand for me, that is as closeas I need to come to Liszkowofor I don’t speak Lithuanianthough it runs through my veins.I have visited the Highlandsand the Isle of Islaybut I never saw myfather’s kin reach out to me,although…
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ON THE PRECIPICE
He never imagined for a momentthat he would be here, hereof all places, on the precipiceof an abyss the likes of whichhe only visited in nightmares. And he knew, when he lookedback he knew he would seethe pack of Abyssinians headingfor him, and that was anothernightmare given his cat allergyand his intense Ailurophobia. So there…
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THE LOBBY BAR AT MIDNIGHT
Ann Arbor a certain diffidenceButte born of three rum CollinsCarmel the Gucci show windowsDuluth darkened, forebodingErie escalator rattleFairbanks a sound coffinGrapevine grand pianoHilo the restaurant emptyIthaca seeking dinersJacksonville by the exit signsKalamazoo conventioneers droolLincoln and slobberMemphis over the ankh necklaceNatchez girl cross leggedOakland engulfed in smokeProvidence the ficus droopsRehoboth in the shade of the barSalem…
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DEEP
Deep beneath the Arctic icethe whale songs shimmerin the harsh lightof a frozen sun.We strive to hear them,hear nothing, hear onlyour thoughts echoingthrough cavernous memories.With thoughts of what was,what we wish had been,we are ambient noisein a universe whichcradles hope, craves silence.Dolphins dream of dayswhen the sea was theirs,lives lived in a slow paradisea world…
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CALLING
In the dark heart of nighttime is suddenly frozen,the clock’s hands stalactitesand stalagmites, unyieldingdenying the approach of morning,leaving the sun imprisonedunder the watchful gazeof its celestial wardens. It is then you appear,call out to me, beg mebe silent, not askingthe lifetime of questionsI have accreted, providingmy own hopes andimagination for answers,but you have faces, notthose…
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WANDERING NO MORE
In my dreams I wanderedthe alleys of Lisbon searchingfor a familiar face, and manycame close, but no man stopped meand asked if I was, by chancehis son, for he dreamed Iwas what a son of hiswould look like. Now I have no need to wanderfor I know he is ina military cemeteryin Burlington, New Jersey,and…
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STARING
She sits demurely on the stepstaring off at something.You want to know what buther face isn’t saying, her eyessoft, revealing nothing, her smileenticing, teasing, and out of grasp. You want to sit with her, seewhat she looks at, what has capturedher thoughts, and there is roomon the step for you to join her,but you have…
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DREAMS
It starts quickly and unexpectedly. You do not know when it will start, why, or what it will bring. There are times when even after it is done, you cannot be certain what it was, what it did, what it meant. Often, though, you forget it before you have time to capture it. It is…
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HAUNTING
The ghosts of my birth parentsblow into my dreams asso many white sheets tornfrom the clotheslineby gale winds, fly over me,at once angels and vulturescarrying off memoriescreated from the clayof surmise and wishful thinking. I invite their visits, frailbranches to which to clingin the storms of growing age,beginnings tenuous anchorsto hold against time, knowingthe battle…
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Santa Cruz Wharf, September
The quieter you becomethe more you can hear.— Baba Ram Dass Orion lies over the wharfstaring at the moon, danglinglike an unyielding eye, barring sleepwhile below the waves washonto the shore, licking the pilingsand tasting the sand, a calming roarbroken only by the barkingof the harbor seals.It is not a night for huntingthe bear has…
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an old writer and his words 