Whereas…

November 10, 2017

Gone to Where it Doesn’t Rain Much

November 8, 2017

When I go to the reservation in my mind I become a man in a singlewide. There are the inevitable …

November 7, 2017

I could not swallow my vanity there in the Mission. Having arrived with a rose for the Virgin, I was …

November 7, 2017

The smell of wax reminds me of flowers piled up against the coffin. Surrounded by tall white candles, dusted with …

November 7, 2017

After Wallace Stevens I The desert is painted ocher, turquoise and white in the right kind of light. II In …

November 3, 2017

I like to put this one up now and then so’s we don’t forget our imminent demise – Happy Friday… The …

November 2, 2017

Some things were beyond redemption. Others were simply lost to carelessness. So many of the important things were given away …