The free Wednesday newspaper waits in my mailbox, a wrapper for advertisements by the shrill ream, topped by a sheaf of messages from New York addressed to Occupant, my pet name. “Valentine Veggies Keep the Heart Beating,” the newspaper boldly asserts. A perfect story for today, pushing slow products under the banner of health, devoid […]
Valentine Veggies (for Yevgeny Yevtushenko) Read More »
Written in 2001, this essay may seem dated in some respects. The author believes that its plea for thoughtful consideration of the place of computers in education and in human life remains valid. I – To the Winter Palace “Our inventions are wont to be pretty toys, which distract our attention from serious things. They
Attack of the Killer Virus Read More »
In the early 1970s, my friend Carlos and I taught at a new community college, condescendingly known as “Safeway Tech” because its library occupied a decommissioned grocery store. Carlos and I had hit it off immediately. We both loved music – his father was a prominent symphony conductor – and wrote poetry. We translated each
More Than Enough of More Than Enough Read More »
Hairbrush in her right hand, Cell phone in her left, Where she left her common sense Is anybody’s guess Trying to turn the corner Steering with her knees – Here comes Miss America In her great big SUV. Can’t laugh without a laugh track, Can’’t sleep without a pill Running on the fast track But
Here Comes Miss America Read More »
Starting with my dad, people have been telling me to Stand Up Straight all my life. He told me. The Army told me. My friends told me, and probably a few enemies. No one ever told me how, until last year, when my chiropractor was moved to show me a little exercise in which I
Three Little Words Read More »
While crime fiction has gained some respect over the past twenty years, it’s still usually pigeon-holed as “genre fiction,” or some other label that signifies “not literature.” If “literature” is whatever certified English Professors think it is, then I’m qualified to disagree with the pigeon-holers. I don’t often use the term “literature,” but if I