-
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…
-
REAR VIEW MIND
I spent too much time lookingbackward, looking into the past,looking into the mirrorto frame a dream historyof my desires and fears.He called one morning, lefta message, “Mother died,more details will follow.”A mother his by birth,mine by legal act.I should have felt stunnedanger, I said quietly to myselfhe’s cocky, has issues, and wentabout momentary mourning.That is…
-
WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN
My history is like an ill-sewn quilt, odd piecesof parents stitched looselytogether, always ready to comeapart, fade or be thrown away. Perhaps my history ismore like a belovedold pair of jeans, holesappear and are patched,patches wear out and arereplaced, or the hole isjust left, as if it weresomehow a fashion statement. There is little normalwhen…
-
A WELL REHEARSED SILENCE
Of course there is something I oughtto say, moments like this require it,it goes without saying, painfully. I practiced lines for hours, rehearsedin my dreams for weeks, knewfor years I’d be rendered mute. My tongue swells, threateningto escape my mouth or take refugedeep within my esophagus. Your silence is only compoundingmy anxiety, how can I,…
-
HOME
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…
-
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…
-
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…
-
PARKING
It is the difference I always noticebetween small and large cities: the parks. When you sit deeply withinBoston Commons or Central Parkyou can feel the city alwaysthreatening to encroach andonce again make you its prisoner,smell and hear the city, trafficand trucks rumbling, hornsplayed in a cacophonous symphony. In small cities you can sit in a…
-
IMAGINING
I never imagined any of this, couldn’t have you correctly note, but I imagined many things that did not, could not exist, that after all is one purpose of dreams and nightmares. I did imagine writing, words shaped to fit odd places, never round pegs or square holes, but fluid, shifting shapes like lava seeking…
-
REALITY, OF A SORT
The single greatest problemwith dreams is that theyare utterly real when youare dreaming, the absurdis not only permittedbut expected, and in thatmoment it is hardly absurd. The dead and living comeand go with impunity,and you welcome themas real people becausefor that period of timethey are as real as you are. But awakening, you realizeit was…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
an old writer and his words 