“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
You Can Listen Here The novel, Joyce’s last, is 628 pages long and takes place over the course of one night as set inside a sleeper’s dream world, written in a dream language of puns, combined words, coined words, words made up on the spot never to be seen in English prose again. Joyce worked through eye operations, poverty, countless apartments, two cities, family turmoil and the gradual disintegration of his only daughter, Lucia. One […]
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You Can Listen Here First Sight: The young man hunched in the wind leaned on the rail at the overlook gesturing to an unfenced tower beyond which it looked as if all the rock on the continent had been cranked open. He said, “I feel like I want to go to that rock.” Maybe he too felt the temptation of that galactic fall, the Canyon humming to him like some ancient radio made for […]
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You Can Listen Here Heavy, a dense pound, the color of a dark bruise, crisscrossed by the coronary artery, the heart in my hand had been beating an hour before in a big doe. Its aortic valves, pulmonary artery and vein are as spacious and dark as the end of a hose. Much like my heart, mammalian, four-chambered, hot, but this beat faster at rest, ready for the leap into a dead run, the norm for a browser […]
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You Can Listen Here I may not use the verb ‘ride’ — the last horse that carried me was blind in one eye and tried to scrape me off the saddle by walking under the low branches of pine trees. I have fed and worked around a big Heflinger named Buddy who I like very much, but I have no intuitive feel for horses. I am no cowboy. This has never stopped me from dreaming […]
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