Tag Archives: childhood
The Well
Excerpt from Nocturne Variations When Piers was six she fell into a well. The well was abandoned and no longer had any water in it. If there would have been water in it, Piers would have drowned. Sometimes she’d imagine … Continue reading
Childhood’s End?
Childhood, as a static port or fixed constellation, remains an ongoing historical fiction, in which small deaths, consigned to witnesses, inevitably breed the shadows of regeneration.
Howl II
(Poem written in response to Joe Sorren’s “While the Trucks on the Highway All Howl”) While the trucks on the highway all howl, beneath a milk-bottle sky, Sunday’s children, curious and bulb-headed, lay vigorous claim to Paradise. Non-profit architects, they … Continue reading
My Father
My father was a tough guy. How tough, it’s hard to say. And when I say tough I mean it in the street-Brooklyn sort of way. Neighborhood-tough, man-tough, like that. As I’ve grown older I’ve realized it’s much more … Continue reading
Glow
The coke parties were my favorite. It was when everyone was happiest. Everyone meant my father, my mother, and their friends, Teddy and Debby. Occasionally, Debby’s brother, Wayne, was part of everyone. My mother would say—Teddy and Debby … Continue reading
Fort
It has become my last refuge, a solitary outpost upon which the broken bit of sun seared into my palm, mirroring stigmata, has given my name as refutable evidence and signature.
Hale
To sharpen one’s teeth against solvent pages and grated silence is the bite in the air the old poets crowed about, and the wind saliently scales, as if reverse were a condition and not Memory fasting into childhood’s hale.
At the Bottom of Childhood’s Well
It is a magic time, it is a deadly time. We are fresh and newly forming, we excel in discoveries, delight in newness. Our souls are malleable, there is fluidity and grace oozing from us, and with … Continue reading
Glow
The coke parties were my favorite. It was when everyone was happiest. Everyone meant my father, my mother, and their friends, Teddy and Debby. Occasionally, Debby’s brother, Wayne, was part of everyone. My mother would say—Teddy and Debby are coming … Continue reading
