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MOON WATCH
I’m guessing it wasabout 2 AM, I can’t be suresince the only clockin the bedroom was analogand unlighted, visible only by day. I don’t know what woke me,it just seems to happen, but the moonwas peering in between the slatsof closed window blinds. I don’t like being watchedin my sleep, certainly notby some voyeuristic interloperbut…
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UNDER THE BED
There was a ghostor two for a short while,that lived under my bedwhen I was three or four. My mother said theywere not real, she couldn’tsee them when she looked,so they were all in my mind. I had to tell her that youdon’t ever actually see ghosts,you just know they are therebecause you sense their…
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MOVING DAY
In my dream last nightI was moving a matress, queen sized,probably with box springs butit was wrapped, from my parents’ hometo my apartment, but not usinga vehicle, just pushing italong the streets, obeyingall the traffic signals, usingmy turn indicators, althoughdon’t ask why a mattress hadturn lights, just accept that it did.It was arduous work, and…
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WRONG AGAIN
As a teenager, like somany others of our narrowminded, obsessed gender,I imagined myself a great lothario,girls on the edge of womanhoodlining up for my attention. The absurdity of that dreamwas lost on me and my peers,testosterone drowning it in a seaof hormones, and we were obliviousto the real obstacle alwaysright in front of us, that…
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MAP STORE
The bride walks down the aisletrailing a veil of tearsrolling in the dustof too many centuries,encrusting the virgin. Albert Einsteinpurchases a map of Taos. Bookkeeper hunchesover ledger sheetstallying night winds acrossthe frozen pond, logwedged in the ice. Douglas Macarthurpurchases a map of Hue. Monitors blare newsfrom other worlds, flickeringacross cups of half emptycoffee and cigarette…
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CURFEW
We sat in the cramped kitchenhuddled around the stovethe open oven door spreadinga faint warmth that barelyslid through the winter chill.The bare bulb in the ceilingstrained and flickeredfighting to hold as the generatorswere shut down, and darknessenveloped our small world.The sky was lit by the flaresand the odor of exploding shellsseeped through the towelsealed windows…
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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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SHARED VISION, ONCE REMOVED
Stevie and I were probably eightsitting on the front stoop of our flat,he the only one in third grade smaller than me.There was no snow to be seen,none in the sky, none on the frozenand still patchy lawn, just the windof an always cold December day.Christmas is coming, I saidaren’t you excited, with all the…
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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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LAUNDRY LOVE
In the older romcom moviesthere was often a meetcutetaking place in a laundromat. I have spent far too many hoursin laundromats when travelingon extended business trips. I found one in Santa Cruzwith a coffee shop and figuredit was where romance would bloom. I spend more than a few hourswatching but while the coffeewas always pouring,…
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an old writer and his words 