“In such a world of conflict, a world of victims and executioners, it is the job of thinking people, not to be on the side of the executioners.”- Camus
Let’s get this out of the way first. I’ve been writing poems since 2015. I’ve written over 800, but I cannot call myself a poet. I’d sooner eat a bad meal on stage than do so. Poets are published. One poem chosen by an online magazine in 11, almost 12 years, is not a record for being published. Just so, I write essays and poems, but I’m not a writer. […]
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Like the dog in the cartoon who acts as if elation-lightning-struck by the word “squirrel,” I will rush out of the Store, however briefly, to say, “I like your dog” to passers-by out walking their mix, Shep, Golden, Lab, Doodle or Pit, but the truth is that Border Collies and Pits bring out the child’s squeal in me, and that I linger longest with them, Collies for my delight in them and […]
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Love may own the most variable, the most volatile, the most contradictory of definitions of any of the virtues and perhaps of any noun. One may declare love for an object, an action, a food or drink, animals, trees, flowers, every kind of flora and fauna, for a weapon, for a rosary, for Presidents, dead or living, for tyrants, for states of being – He loves being in love. One […]
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Edward Hoagland is dead, who helped me to see and fall in love. He died in February. In the outpouring of media trash and catastrophe, I missed it. From the summer of 1977 and into the early 80’s I read all of his essays . His observations on turtles, tigers, bears, wolves, rivers and walking and woods felt as if I had found Thoreau’s more prickly, direct and ironic descendent, but someone just as […]
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