Tag Archives: family
I have started working on my new novel: No Man’s Brooklyn. A return to the bones of childhood, and to tangled roots. A return to the gritty lore of Bensonhurst.
The day the plastic bride and groom came to life and climbed down from their three-tier wedding cake, tracking footprints of vanilla frost onto the carpet of the living room, which came with a matching couch and recliner, floral-print curtains, an … Continue reading
In the black and white photo, 1923 written in faded pencil in the lower left hand corner, neatly scalloped perforations along the borders—my grandmother and her sister, Rose, are standing on the beach. Coney Island. In the background the … Continue reading
My sister and I are bonded in that we were in the trenches together. In the battle-zone that was our household, we were witnesses to and casualties of the same war. I am six years older than my … Continue reading
My mother had had a hard life. There have been many challenges, many obstacles, and in a sense you could trace their origins back to her father, her rapist. When your father is also your rapist your childhood … Continue reading
There was a time when kleptomania was all the rage among the women in my family. That is, my mother, and my two aunts, Marie and Rosetta, were robbing department stores and toy stores with casual regularity. I’m … Continue reading
It was one of the hot-spots on the avenue. The place where the men hung out every day. It was their church, their sanctuary, their cave, a place where the regular lives went away for a little while. My … Continue reading
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
My uncle was a full blown junkie. He was rail-thin, a mongrel with no bite. I liked hanging out with him. He had a sweetness and gentleness to him. He was a soft whisper whereas my father was a volcanic … Continue reading
(It’s a Wonderful Life haiku) A father’s pocket, containing secret petals— the meaning of love.