In a neighbourhood rife with racial tension, a local girl falls for a recent immigrant who is the victim of prejudice and shame.
He would give her something to cry about.
If she knew what was good for her,
she would do something with her hair.
Was my father’s leftover stuff the key to who he really was?
From the table I selected a Big Book:
“The more hopeless he feels, the better.”
You opted for the straight fuck, lust with no intimacy & mind-game mystery, even though you tried to please. I loved dearly the illusion you were, mannish boy as John … Continue reading →
If I had been a ten year old stranger and you had tripped me in a dark alley, say, downtown, instead of our mutual living room I’m sure I would … Continue reading →
We always debate religious and political affiliation in the wake of these events. But one enormous and tragic corollary has been consistently ignored. One would think, listening to the devastated … Continue reading →