relationships
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The first day of a new yearcliché is the currency we traffic innew pages are turnedexpectations for whateverlies aheadexceedingly optimistic self-talk, public proclamationspersonal plans for change, regenerationrenewal carries vagueexpiration date mentally stamped at factorywarning us with certaintylike a gallon of milk ‘hopes will curdle if not used by…’Those with calendars still hanging from walls,refrigeratorsripping last Read more
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Sitting on the fringe of large patio contemplating retaining wall perch, New York Bay lapping gently every table, chair, square foot occupied genial reverie of twenty, thirty-somethings enjoying summer Saturday night companion and I well beyond the demographic Our backs to Staten Island, I squint my mind’s eye at ancient brick-warehouse-turned-hip-brewery easily imagining much Read more
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I cried to my grandparents todaya first for memy father’s parents, who diedbefore I was born never heard their voicesfelt their touch never knew where they wereeven buried until recently I cried to my grandparents todaythey never had a shoulderthey could offerneither ever rocked meto sleep, or just for comfortnever dried one of my tearsuntil Read more
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Plaid flannel shirts of my Northwoods youth smelled of beer and pine cones boat motor gasoline and fresh caught sunfish wood smoke and filtered Winstons when I was a kid the intertwined, pungent aromas of cervelat salami plumbers’ grease, house paint mingled freely, locked in square-patterned fibers, always-rolled-up sleeves no amount of Fels-Naptha soap could Read more
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summer comes to a close autumnal breezes waft rustling memories of those days when the close of summer had more definitive endings sun-drenched days of youthful frolic, innocent play, done swimming, playing with frogs in holes dug on sandy beaches at grandparent’s homes; ‘the lake’ summer Xanadus of childhood one year, scenic backdrops for advancing Read more
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“…and there’s nothin’ short of dyin’ that’s half as lonesome as the sound of a sleepin’ city sidewalk and Sunday mornin’, comin’ down…” – Kris Kristoffferson There is no respite from the escape the night before, sketchy adrenaline rush of getting there, staying there, leaving behind whatever it was trying to find whatever it is Read more
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Being your knight in shining armor often means more work for you pounding out dents knocking off rust slapping in Bondo minimizing creaks knowing just when, where to squirt WD40 There is nobility in your exasperation at my Quixotic nature acceptance of my clunky, clanky chivalry; romantic caprices challenge your practicality whimsically, we joust word Read more
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As kids, we tied our fates to various inanimate yet participatory objects spun bottles Ouija boards dandelions professed proof of true loves brought cryptic messages all interpreted with certainty until the imagined magic wore off leaving us with our first taste of skepticism but the bottle could be redeemed for the deposit, the eye to Read more
Ponderable polemics, poetic 