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EARLY MORNING
Early this morning as I drove through the mist that clings to Portland in March like a child’s yellow slicker, I thought of you, home, asleep on our bed, my side tidy, no faint indentation of life, and I thought of the thousands who have died to date in Iraq, who never again will leave…
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SLIP SLIDING AWAY
There comes a moment at which both memory and history become blurred at the edges, where the bedrock on which belief has been so carefully erected seems more magma, shifting threatening to bring down the superstructure of desire and assumption. It is the fading that is at once both fear inducing and exhilarating for faith…
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MORNING SLOWLY
Morning slowly encroaches on your dreams, eroding images despite your tightening grasp. Clear lines blur, become hazy and dissipate, bleached by the first light creeping around the shades. The dreams do not care for they will arise again when they choose and this is for them a mere inconvenience. You are the loser here for…
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MOMENT
Enter slowly, calmly, and we dare say enter at your own risk for you cannot know what will happen within, nor can we although we have been here countless times before if our memory serves us, which of course it cannot for it, too, is stuck in this very moment with no escape. Do not…
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NIGHT AT THE PUB
It’s a fading memory now, a hole in the wall then, CBGB’s, loud, but nothing happening at Tommy Makem’s and here the cop and his pals play angry Irish with a foot in reggae and ska. I’m too old to be here, but no one really cares as long as I buy my Bushmills or…
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FINDING
He was no longer sure quite where he found it, or whether it was talisman or just an amulet, but he didn’t believe the distinction really mattered at all. He carried it with him everywhere he went, was sure to put it ins his pocket each day. Many said it did nothing for him, brought…
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TOMORROW
Tomorrow, he is certain, it will be sunny and surprisingly warm or it will rain, with a cool breeze or it will be temperate but rather cloudy. It may be none of these or all, by turns. He would ask the weatherman but he knows none and this would be such a personal question you…
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GRANDSON
This Sunday, I know, we will take another journey through mythology, today a sail down the Lethe, no doubt, or perhaps a careful avoidance of the Styx. He will speak of Thanatos and Mors, and will tell me not to be sad, and with his sad smile, I will not be, and though he is…
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THANKS
She said I should be thankful that I am not a rice farmer. She said that I should be thankful that I am not over seven feet tall, and not less than four feet eight inches, although she concedes that four feet nine would not be cause for celebration. She says I should be thankful…
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THE LAST TIME
The last time we spoke you asked me when the end was coming. I didn’t have a good answer for you, wasn’t even quite sure what you meant by the question, the end of what? Of time, of your life or mine, or merely the end of a conversation we had been carrying on for…
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an old writer and his words 