Amazon.com Widgets
  • A review, an audio podcast, sick as a dog

     [- Jan Steen, “The Sick Woman” 1665 -] I never get sick. I’d be the first to tell you that. But then, once in a blue moon, I do. Like now. Throat closed, frogs voice, sweaty, hot/cold, achy, sleepy, sleeping, sleepish. Sheets damp, new sheets, damp sheets. Its been this way for a week while,(…)

  • Letter to a dead friend. Promise kept.

    Dear Lily, The memory of our long day together in 2009 in Athens remains lodged in my viscera. Though I’m not one for remembering dates, or years, or who wore what when, as you are/were, I am certain of the date because – after thirty-nine consecutive years of friendship – I never saw you alive(…)

  • With Micah on Christmas

    Your downy head against my cheek, your toasty bottom resting in the palm of my hand while your miniature fist surrounds my index finger all morning, all afternoon, until night falls face down across Los Angeles. Then, into evening. Awake. Asleep. Sometimes in between. A choo-choo train of gas toots, a tremulous sigh, your grip(…)

  • Meeting Micah

    Dear Micah, I’m leaving tomorrow morning at dawn to fly to LA to (finally) meet you. You’re one month and seven days old. I’m … eight hundred sixty-eight months and three days old. In case we don’t find much that we have in common, we surely will find a few strong links to each other.(…)

  • Never enough rain, never a long enough night

    It rained through the long night, the thirteenth longest night of the nearly discarded crumpled year. Polly didn’t put the kettle on. I did but couldn’t wait for the whistle so covered dry tea leaves with not-boiled-tap-water while listening to the swish/slosh of car tires; to pauses, to spatters, driblets, sprinkles, sprays, swash. In bed(…)

  • The Misreading of a Mishearing: a Translation Tale

    I met Suzanne Jill Levine (often called Jill) in Santa Barbara in the early 90s. Since then our paths have crossed many times – in Los Angeles, New York City, upstate New York at the charming Arbor B & B where we spent days doing a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle between savory meals conjured by the owner,(…)

  • Short straw

    He drew the short straw. Blanched. His task unwelcome. She picked the long straw. Blushed. Her task uninvited. Poem by Samuel Beckett, translated by Samuel Beckett they come different and the same with each it is different and the same with each the absence of love is different with each the absence of love is(…)

With Micah on Christmas

Your downy head against my cheek, your toasty bottom resting in the palm of my hand while your miniature fist surrounds my index finger all morning, all afternoon, until night falls face down across Los Angeles. Then, into evening. Awake. Asleep. Sometimes in between. A choo-choo train of gas toots, a tremulous sigh, your grip(…)

Read more...

Meeting Micah

Dear Micah, I’m leaving tomorrow morning at dawn to fly to LA to (finally) meet you. You’re one month and seven days old. I’m … eight hundred sixty-eight months and three days old. In case we don’t find much that we have in common, we surely will find a few strong links to each other.(…)

Read more...

Never enough rain, never a long enough night

It rained through the long night, the thirteenth longest night of the nearly discarded crumpled year. Polly didn’t put the kettle on. I did but couldn’t wait for the whistle so covered dry tea leaves with not-boiled-tap-water while listening to the swish/slosh of car tires; to pauses, to spatters, driblets, sprinkles, sprays, swash. In bed(…)

Read more...

Short straw

He drew the short straw. Blanched. His task unwelcome. She picked the long straw. Blushed. Her task uninvited. Poem by Samuel Beckett, translated by Samuel Beckett they come different and the same with each it is different and the same with each the absence of love is different with each the absence of love is(…)

Read more...

The gift of an hour

With an extra hour gifted to me at 2am last night: Visited Aruba at dawn before the powdery white sand was even warm; could see Mount Jamanota. Took the double-decker green trolley in Oranjestad. Seeing a blissful smile, the driver asked, Vrije tijd? Ja inderaad, I replied, and climbed to the upper deck in order(…)

Read more...

Journey inside a terrarium

Train stations: Penn Station, Bath Spa Station, Waterloo Station, London Euston Station, St. Pancras Station, Gare du Nord Airports: JFK, Heathrow, Charles de Gaulle Hotels: Annabelle’s Guest House, Fitzroy, Montague On The Gardens, Hotel Zora, Dolce Chantilly Book launched: Found and Lost: Mittens, Miep and Shovelfuls of Dirt Publisher: Notting Hill Editions, UK – www.nottinghilleditions.com –(…)

Read more...