Tag Archives: story

The Fat Woodworker

   Se non e vero, e’ ben trovato  (“Even if it is not true, it is a good story”).    I learned this Italian phrase from a man I met at a bar in Venice Beach.    The man, a … Continue reading

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I Sing the Body Defective

Excerpt from No Man’s Brooklyn, novel-in-progress.    Me and Jake are Charlie are at the Body Rub joint.    Jake is treating me to a massage. He offers to treat Charlie too, but Charlie declines. He says he’ll be happy … Continue reading

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Anya at Night

   Late summer.    Anya and I are on a walking tour of the park at night. The 40oz. bottles of Olde-E we are carrying are concealed inside brown bags. We detour at the playground, where Anya plants herself on … Continue reading

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Valentine

Excerpt from Nocturne Variations:    From that point forward Piers and Teresa hung out nearly every night, getting drunk and stoned and completing each other in various ways.    An adverbially inflamed Teresa fell hard for Piers and loved her … Continue reading

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Grandfather

   The only time I had ever seen my grandfather cry was also the first time I had ever seen an adult blatantly lose touch with reality. His first wife, my grandmother, Angelina, had died when I was five. She … Continue reading

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Fathers and Sons

   I see and hear throughout dinner, how my father so desperately wants to impress my grandfather, wants to be applauded by him, recognized, seen. My father bulldozes in with his own stories. About having met and become friends with … Continue reading

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Atlantic City

   We check into the Trop, where my grandfather and his wife are also staying. My father calls my grandfather and we make plans to meet for dinner at 5 at one of the restaurants. When he gets off the … Continue reading

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Disability

Receiving disability was another gold ticket ambition of many of the men in my neighborhood. Years ago, my father had lucked into this fortune by hurting his back while working and had been able to parlay that into a ceaseless … Continue reading

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Reckoning

I realized that there may never come a reckoning that equated to a clean or true do-over. And what was it I wanted to break from? Was it the past, was it a worn and outdated mode of self that … Continue reading

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Grandmother

   She was short, a spud of a woman, who in the summer looked like an overbaked potato.    Her hair was a mushroom-cap, a helmet-poof petrified by copious amounts of Aqua Net hairspray. My grandmother was sweet, exceptionally sensitive, … Continue reading

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment