In Book 19 of The Odyssey, Penelope recounts to a disguised Odysseus one of her dreams. In it, a great eagle swoops out of the sky and kills twenty geese she tends to, leaving her brokenhearted. The eagle tells her to be happy since he symbolizes the husband who will wreak vengeance on her suitors. […]
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In “Why I Continue To Write: Thirty-five years after Last Exit to Brooklyn,” Hubert Selby Jr. says of his youth, I went into the hospital in 1946, with advanced tuberculosis, and altogether I spent three and a half years in the hospital. By the time I got out I had had 10 ribs removed, one
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I wake With death in my mouth. Before I wash it out, I start with Ten reasons why I cannot take my own life. One–Suicide is selfish, Especially for you. You help so many people. What would they do Without you? Two–Who else Can make Algebra fun? All your students need you. Three–Who would get
In the darkness of your broken nightlight, you whispered stories to yourself until you fell asleep. Ogres and wolves were all that haunted your dreams. Monsters were slain with swords and tricks by a hero, clever and brave, quick on his feet, everything you were supposed to be. You shot up like a beanstalk, left
Music is one of those things in life that can stir up a lot of emotional debate. First is, of course, arguments over which musical style–Hip Hop, Country, Jazz, etc.–is best. Then there are disagreements about the best songs an artist has recorded. And then there are covers of existing songs by other artists, particularly
The scrape of laughter fills the bar & preying, prying eyes behind shot glasses leer as she ventures in— dainty fingers quiver, holding a virgin pen. She signs then passes to a confident meaty hand & a variegated band of voices begins to create a list. She stands, goes first— steps over snickers to stage