Dear Lord, I was blownaway. Though I had been in theatre for decades, and was teaching it, and directing
Read MoreWorking productively isits own reward. Boring paint- ing allows thinking of more import- ant things than the completed job,
Read MoreI don’t really knowwhy he gave it to me all those years ago, but I’m guessing Laura didn’t
Read MoreThere is time to thinkof the moment only if I have consciousness; I do mean, mind you, the act of being un-asleep.
Read MoreThere we were dancingupstairs by the window wall Nicole and Casie and I, maybe when they were four and five, maybe to Dylan’s Hey Mr. Tambourine Man.
Read MoreI was a naïve twelveor so when Harry Randall’s folks gave me a job at their little dairy in western most El Segundo.
Read MoreMore than fortyyears has slipped away from the sounds long de- parted as I drove aimlessly home.
Read MoreA hawk, inall its glory, perches only a few feet from where I sit, a hawk, mind you, those
Read MoreThe sixty-one high school kidsjogged past me as I ate my sausage McMuffin and egg on the running
Read MorePerhaps it wasthe old Sand Dunes Tavern, the uniqueness of living in so unconventional
Read MoreSue told me.I laughed and said I’d write a poem about the idea.
Read MoreHelping Casie audition forher fall play, students paraded before us down stage cen-
Read MoreOh no!The damn thing is gone and my life is suddenly isolated.
Read MoreThe broadcast biography of himlast night bringing back his tortured productive genius, including the idea he might have been a little in love with
Read MoreI drag the pestle across the wooden toad’sarched ridge so it may croak. When I first heard the sound, the realization that who- ever carved the little dude, hollowed out its
Read MoreToday at The Aquarium of the Pacific I saw achild’s face with the look of perceptive age, of worry beyond her years as if she understood war, and life expectancy, and defeat.
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