-
OF DREAMS
I am now of an agewhere I can no longer rememberwhat terrors gripped my sonsin their dreams, causing themto appear beneath our blankets,I relegated to the bed’s edge. Perhaps there were noneand I was destined to bean edge sleeper, the boystaking advantage as a jokeplayed out night after night. I know what dreams nowcan rip…
-
THE WALL
The wall is black granite, highly polished be an unseen hand and the fingers of countless thousands present but each unseen by the others. At first glance you want to count the names, but you lack fingers enough for the task and others are quickly withdrawn as are their eyes. You know where the names…
-
CONVERSATION
Arising into nightthe departing suntangoes away with its cloud,memories soon forgotten.Other dancers take the stage,now a romance, nowa war dance, feathers raisedin prayer to unseen gods.Night will soon bringits curtain across this stage,the avian cast’s final bows takenthe theatre will darken, awaitinganother performance,a new script tomorrow,but for this solitary momentof frozen grace, it is wewho…
-
BLESSED
Barchu, for the slugs of the Chinese knockoff AK47 which tore through his legs, twisting to avoid the artery and nerves. Barchu, for the moon hanging in the frosted night seeking shelter in the mist cutting into me, lashing me to reality. Barchu, for their memory the small circle of candles that burn eternally in…
-
NO BACKS
As you age, your vision changes,and not merely that of your eyes,for you necessarily becomenear sighted about many things. Of course you dread the fact that youcould be myopic if circumstancesconspire against you, barely ableto be IN and remember the moment. Even those healthy take to mythology,and astronomy, wishing they wereTitan, living life in retrograde,…
-
ANTISOCIAL MEDIA
The meaning is simple,a data point here,another there,an image,an algorithmwords writtenin jest,in anger,regret,withdrawal,cancellation,account closed,remaining shadows,way back,pixels always moving,real friendsonce touched,I aman avatar to you,I have erasedyou from memory.
-
TRIPTYCH
A triptych hangs in the gallery of memory. Admission is by invitation only. The first panel is a time fogged mirror into which I stare. The adopted image hides behind the tarnished silver. My adopted mother’s voice is heard from a hidden speaker: “You were named after my father.” I want to tape his picture…
-
THE WAVES
We, so far out at sea,see only the waves passing,the rise and fall, the rhythm,and cannot imagineit could be otherwise, You, on the shorecannot perceive the waveswe do, torn by the reefthat leaves you onlyimagining what you thinkthe waves might be. We cannot imaginethe silence, the isolationyou must feel in yourwaveless world withonly memory of…
-
SNOW
At first it was just oddto think of snow as merelya concept, a memory softer,more pleasant than its reality. You can grow accustomedto concepts, they are generallysomewhat neat and tidy, easilyfiled and brought forth on demand. The concept of snow hasits great advantages, snowmenof perfect shape, never meltingand no one must shovel a concept. But…
-
A SUMMER EVE
I can’t remember what year it was,or why I was in his apartment, halfsprawled across the sofa, my girlfriend sitting with his,or one of his, he had many,on the floor, listening to Inside Bert Somers, and thinkingthat was the last place on earthI intended to go that evening. I recall the wine was good, butthen anything a…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
an old writer and his words 