White Impala parked on a side street,blue Chevy Malibu at a drive-in theater –the images are as useless asa box of condoms to a dead man.But here they comeout of the sheer endlessness of the past,meet up with me in this cageI call the present.Sure, I’m driving, but I’m not cruising.I’m headed some placeand I... Continue Reading →
So this is what waiting is all about,pacing before the temple,pretending comfort on the concrete steps,admiring the marble tripod,the entrance flanking sphinx.I look at my watchand then the limestone monoliths.I feel my pulse,run my hands across the huge bronze door.After a while, I know my entablaturefrom my column base.It's growing darker by the minute.My eyes... Continue Reading →
Back in 1977, in my mid-twenties, I wrote a story called “A Caring Man.” I was attending the Iowa Writers Workshop in Iowa City at the time as well as living and working with my wife Jeri at a nearby Quaker boarding school. That summer we were deep in drought. Even though the well at... Continue Reading →
“One definition of living might be the perpetual swapping of story lines,” Leslie Jamison writes. “We trade in the scripts we’ve written for ourselves and get our real lives in return.” This line appears in “The Real Smoke,” from her 2019 collection, Make It Scream, Make It Burn. “The Real...
I grew roots. She grew wings. My ground and her skies moved in paces that could only coexist for a short time. It was inevitable that we would part. It was as amicable a split as there could ever be. We were both too aware of each other’s truths to know it could be any... Continue Reading →
Omaha, Nebraska May 7, 1962 Margaret Meyer noticed the sign Monday morning as she approached the entrance of Cafe Sásta. It was printed neatly in black marker on a sheet of typing paper, taped to the plate glass window. UPSTAIRS APARTMENT FOR RENT. INQUIRE INSIDE. Over the last year, she’d visited the cafe several mornings... Continue Reading →
We rode the subway to the Eaton Centre,exited the turnstiles, and saw a homelesswoman extending her paper cup. I walkedby. Then stopped and walked back. I hadtwo toonies in my pocket and gave her one.She was grateful. When I caught up to Jean,I said, Why didn't I give her both? Is $4going to kill me?... Continue Reading →
On the flight from LA to Toronto I was bumpedto Business Class, some airline SNAFU, and thereI was next to Robert DeNiro slightly reclined forthe long flight. I’m told I bear a striking resemblance,despite his being twelve years older. He is muchdifferent in real life, playing Wordle on his phone.I respected his need for anonymity... Continue Reading →
If I took the car I would have missedthe woman offering her seatand her insistence to sit – please sit –I would have missedthe memories of her mother whoowns a bean farm in Jamaicashe will inherit one day.And then what? Leave Toronto?I would have missed the manwho gets on at Vaughn,asks the driver something,who nods... Continue Reading →
we begin at dusk lying in wait while the world moves apace oblivious to our woes and whims the night flight begins coordinated cluster into the abundant sky despised & expectant driven to extinction we make black tendrils against a setting sun wings thrashing perfect pink beauty in arrangement throbbing impulse movement in tandem a... Continue Reading →
