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FORKED TONGUE
I can’t tell you how longit’s been since I’ve seena snake around here, mostlybecause my sense of timehas limits of a decade. I read that they are plentifulin the Everglades, huntedas an invasive species, whichprobably stands to reasonsince our hatred is by now of Biblical proportions, and wehave learned to love goats,so, it is the…
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RETURN OF SCIENCE
During the Presidential debate the other night the inevitable question was eventually asked. I have to say the answers were much as expected, exactly as scripted, and while “correct,” each candidate missed a golden opportunity. “On January 21, what will be the first thing you will do as President?” Most of the world’s problems made…
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SONGWRITER
Bob Dylan is, to the best of my knowledge,the only songwriter to successfully rhymeoutrageous and contagious, which doesn’texplain why I knew I could never bea successful songwriter in this life. The explanation is far simpler, it was whenLeonard Cohen served me tea and apricots,said he hated the river even living in Montrealand said I should…
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HOGEN’S DRIP OF WATER 鐵笛倒吹 九十一
What are wordsof wisdomfrom the mouthof the ancient ones.I tell youthese are such words.You may acceptor reject themas you will.Better still, tearthis page from its bindingcrumple itand cast itto the four winds.Let it be carriedoff in ten directions. A reflection on case 91 of the Iron Flute Koans
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SONNETS AND SALADS
I would love to know the precise momentwhen the consensus of critics reachedthe tipping point, that lettuce wasno longer a green, but some lesser vegetable. That would be around the time thatArugula and romaine declared themselvessomething other than lettuce, leavingiceberg and Bibb as produce outcastswhile spinach, kale and chard openly declared their superiority over allof…
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THINGS TO COME
One morning last week I decidedto plant myself at a busy intersectionand begin reading poetry, mostlymy own, I have to admit. I was generally ignored, my usualstate, and that sadly of most poets,when a scruffy, bearded young manset up easel and paint next to me. The morning seemed to relishthe stillness of this urban way…
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DOG DAYS
Growing up my family always had dogs,only one at a time, of course, since wewere a modern suburban family,which may be why we had a dog. It clearly wasn’t because they loved dogs,they tolerated them on good days,ignored them the rest of the timeand the good days were few if any. I never asked for…
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WHAT’S IN A NAME?
He only wants to knowmy spiritual name, “your falseworld name is of no matter.” I tell him I have only one name,the one my parents gave me,and it has worked to this point quite well, and no one has eversuggested I might need another,although my Jewish friends have two. “No,” he says, “your spiritual nameisn’t…
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ANSWER SWIFTLY
The question you will be called uponto answer requires careful thought,but you will be forced to respond. Would you rather live the restof your life in Lilliput or Brobdingnab? It may seem rather silly, for neitheris likely to occur, but that is not the pointand you cannot avoid responding. Of course you will have to…
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PRAYER
We bow our headsand utter wordsnot to the cicadaspeaking througha spring nightor the beetlecrawling slowlyacross the leafsearching for the edge.We bid the crowsilent, the cat mewlinghis hunger and lustto crawl under a porchawaiting morning,the child to sleep.The stream flowsslowly by, carryinga blade of grassand the early fallen leaf. Published in The Raven’s Perch (August 3,…
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an old writer and his words 