I’m fit to be tied, life. I’ve had it up to here. If you consisted of nothing but clichés, catchphrases, adages, old saws, mottos, slogans, and apothegms, we wouldn’t have … Continue reading →
Director Taylor Hawkins gives us a portrait of Stephen Guglielmo and his vintage motorcycle.
a Saturday afternoon when summer was a deep blue heaven
I could crawl into with my hands waving in the air like long goodbyes
as soon as the sky turned dark
We make ourselves a place apart
Behind light words that tease and flout,
But oh, the agitated heart
Till someone find us really out.
“They tried to kill Refaat but ended up making him immortal.”
“Then they journeyed from Bethel; and when they were still some distance from Ephrath, Rachel was in childbirth, and she had hard labor. . . . As her soul was … Continue reading →
There was a word for what was wrong with me
but no word for the troubles on earth.
I try
not to think of all the time I spent
going over what went wrong
between us, how badly I missed
who I wanted her to be
The world is round, so travellers tell,
And straight though reach the track,
Trudge on, trudge on, ’twill all be well,
The way will guide one back.
When I return from the war, if I do,
don’t look into my eyes,
do not see what I saw.
I think of Jeff and Mike, who won’t need
next year’s calendars, Mike saying
These are my last poems. Tomorrow
is not promised, some people say.
Astonishing, this never-ending effort
to have had a happy childhood. Why does it matter
now, why will yourself into all that forgetting?
She may have been a good mother– at least she tried.
Why do we have so many words for parties, a slew
of them once you start looking: shindig, bash,
meet-and-greets, raves, blowouts, barbecues,
and more tepid functions, receptions, luncheons
Today, I am weary of my soul, forever dragging behind me,
clanging for attention like tin cans left tied to a coupe fender
long after the sacred vows.