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Dear Young Companion, Dear Old Friend, Part I
Dear Young Companion, I watched you last night. Lying there on your antique couch, the one with the maroon brocaded upholstery and the wide-winged arms, one of which you use each day as an...
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Blue-Gray Days
Down to the Olde Port Market Written November 2009 I moved to this town many years ago, because the blue fog combined itself with the false impression of infinity that an ocean can provide if only an...
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Turning Error Into Art
The Art of War? When I was a young child, I used too much glue whenever I put together a model airplane. I could see the fine details—the erect plastic nipples on each tab A, the receptive bellybuttons...
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Secrets
Secrets Kill I read a lot of books these days, because writing won’t come easy. The fact is that writing won’t come at all. I’ve grown too old to meet my ancient dreams of publication inside an empty...
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More Rebel Than Revolutionary
My Road To Self-Entrapment Three of us sit around the dining room table. We’re talking about the way the world should be, as if any one of us owns even an idiot’s notion of the way the world is at that...
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I Am An Unrepentant Sinner
The story I’m these days busy writing, titled Gladiolas, is growing longer by thousands of thoughts, words and deeds than I imagined it would. I’m not surprised that it’s turning out that way. After...
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Verse I: Love In The Time of Horowitz
There is no urgent need to read these words. They won’t teach you how to build or fix anything. Nor will they inspire you to change your life. No sign of any paranormal zombies making insignificant...
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Prelude To An Interview With Niccolo Fontana
Professor Fontana What follows is a brief introduction of yet another brilliant author of Sicilian descent, that introduction amplified by an extended, occasionally interesting, recounting of the...
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Prologue To A Book Never To Be Written
Happy, Happy Family! For about ten years, spanning the last decade of the twentieth century, I visited numerous branches of local libraries, and browsed the shelves of many used-book stores — close to...
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I Once Dreamed of Becoming A Dancer
A young man’s dreams look forward to what he imagines might become his future. He creates scenarios with equal energy and effort while he’s awake and while he sleeps. His dreams are malleable and...
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