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RED DOT
I have visited countless galleries,stared at or shielded my eyesfrom all manner of art, butI always read the plaquesaffixed to the walls, nameof artist, of work price,the relative amount speakingto the financial state of the gallery. I actually care very little aboutthe name of the artist otherthan as a historical reference,for the piece has already…
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PANDEMIC DREAMS
What I most want to do now,locked in by something unseen,is to wander the streets of citieshere, Europe, it hardly matters,and find statues whose plaquesare worn away or gone missing,now nameless souls of oncelesser fame meriting a bronzeor of such ego as donatingtheir own image to the town. They are forgotten souls, oftenrightfully so no…
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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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NAME IT
Aunt Tzipporah hated her name,detested it really, came closer to the truth.“What the hell were my parents thinking?”she said, “like being Jewish in West Virginiaisn’t going to be hard enough.On a good day I got away with being Zippy,but you try spending your Junior year in high schoolhearing “Hey Zipper” or having some jerkcome up…
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GYOZAN’S OBJECTS
If a thousand objects are arrayed before you what will you do, what do you call them? A sphere has no edges, I can reach through a cloud. Why would I try to cut a moment in two, or stuff a cloud in my pocket. A reflection on Case 27 of the Iron Flute Koans
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WAITING ROOM, WAITING GAME
They are arrayed like so much stacked cord wood, pressed against walls indifferent to their presence. They watch the double doors leading to the examining rooms with trepidation, wanting to be next, wanting more not to be here at all, knowing the options are none. He isn’t bothered by it all, this is old hat…
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WHAT’S IN A NAME?
He is four, he announces to all gathered at the extended family table that he will be five soon, in January. It is important that we know this just as it is important that he sit next to his cousin, for boys like he should always sit next to cute girls and sisters don’t count,…
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THE FOG
I speak to my father every week or so our conversations are as long as ever but we are rapidly becoming little more than a skipping record. He mostly recalls my name and the various parts one with the other of us has had rebuilt but even that is quickly slipping into the fog that…
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UNTO TARSHISH
In this place there is a fatted, sacrificial silence. It is the large Jewish Cemetery nestling the road where Maryland and the District are loosely stitched together. It is a small plot goldenrod dirt outskirting Lisbon. This ground is sacred not for the blessing of one who has taken the tallit of holiness. The sanctity…
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an old writer and his words 