O Russia, my birthland, I pity your destiny… Russian troops are bombing Odessa. Putin’s generals, death and deputy, craving Odessa, a fallen Odessa. As desperate missiles descend on Odessa poets and sages come to its rescue....
Read MorePosted by admin | April 23, 2023 | Non-Fiction | 0 |
Is sixty-two old? You’re going to say it’s a matter of perspective, aren’t you? Well, I couldn’t disagree more. What’s red or good or deep is red or good or deep all of the time. No exceptions. No shades of gray. My age is my...
Read MorePosted by admin | April 23, 2023 | Non-Fiction | 1 |
My hospital bed felt like a leather canoe that cradled my body like a mummy. No, not a mummy. Not a coffin. I wasn’t that sick. For a week, though, surgeons and gastroenterologists, the gut docs, had argued behind my back and...
Read MoreWhat pink hell is this? Even the people— if you can call them that— are made from Pepto Bismol or maybe bubblegum, lifting their glistening pink arms and especially their attenuated legs with difficulty on this marshy pink...
Read More“Lord God Bird” you called me, as if I aroused awe, as if the beauty of my black-and-white body, my red cockade inspired in you a reverence. I lived in an old-growth swamp forest. There were 81,000 acres when you set up your...
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