A word, please, Mr. Fischman! At the tail end of September, the summer occupants are elsewhere. Gone are the bunnies that hopped across my yard like they owned the place. Gone are the brown squirrels in the Shagbark tree, and... Read more →
"I loved you yesterday And I love you just the same And none of the things you do Could tear us apart I loved you yesterday And I love you just the same When I gave myself to you You... Read more →
I was coming of age, and she was coming into her own. She fought battles for me well before I knew I'd need them. She was tenured at Columbia University in 1972; just about the time I informed my parents,... Read more →
That's how it started; a full bottle of Jameson's in the sand. Just that one bottle propped at an inconsiderate angle. Damn thing should be allowed the dignity of standing up straight until it tips over in the despair called... Read more →
Mayra Medina was born in Bucay, Ecuador in 1969. She grew up in Caracas, Venezuela and came to the US on a student visa in 1987. Mayra was 18 years old when she entered the country and she came alone.... Read more →
For Johnny Nieves, but mostly for Spartacus. Thanks, bro. Wait. Just wait. Watch the photograph. It doesn't move so much as not let your ass off the hook. For all that looking. Be still with that man behind the driver's... Read more →
We have a black squirrel. There is a black squirrel living in the Shagbark tree at the property line. Apparently black squirrels are pretty scarce. One percent of the squirrel population, or one in every 10,000. This article has a... Read more →