Poem for My First Love

Poem for My First Love

  Seven months into my 80th birthday I slip back in time I’m driving down highway one where California’s fertile hills wink at me Giant trees and seashore become one cloud banks ride the horizon like Red Cloud rode the plains in search of the last...
Revenge

Revenge

  The email was welcomed, when it arrived visibly but silently on the screen of Gilbert Fitzwilliams’ computer, like the first crocus of spring; small, insignificant considered by itself, a minor blessing but one to be cherished nonetheless:   Gil— I spoke...
Wide-Eyed to the World

Wide-Eyed to the World

  The farmhouse floats, an island in a sea of rape. From a bus labouring on high roads you gaze down at a boreen, visible now, snaking through an ocean of amarillo. The Van Gogh scene reminds you of our recent holiday in Spain. I too glance at this vision of...
Watch What Develops

Watch What Develops

    I have never been to Coney Island yet the Ferris wheel in sepia-drenched pictures, the greenish tint of old Polaroids, the relics rendered in black and white fills me with a past I will never know. And yet it is mine, a ghost that speaks my name as if...

Carousel Court by Joe McGinniss Jr.

  John Cheever was a surrealist but I think the suburbs made him crazy which allowed him to write they way he did. Raymond Carver presented a sculpted world littered with chiseled drunks, sloppy whores, baby killers, lovesick lovers, unwashed truckers, and...