Eyebrows held like knitting needles
mouths braided with angusish
clouds bulbed like brains
drawn fleeced with thoughts
like water whipped by wind
rent like lightning
the ripped shelter of skies
so that in their rooms
children lie wakened
in fact, the children had been jumping in ther beds
in fact, the children slept throught the storm
in fact, the children had not yet been born
_
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James R. Kincaid, an English prof. at USC, has been writing in The Slate, and practically everywhere else, about how we are given to autom...
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(Sorry to have been so solipsistic--although The Yunus Nobel and the Desai Booker provided the much-needed antidote to that : ) I have b...
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Sunlight. arrogance sees, sleeps Now i understand: every thing you say. In the dark. heartbeat dee...
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Friends and old neighbors shutting it down in honor of John Crawford. _
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Yesterday at lunch with the awesome Pied Piper and an accomplished, pioneering writer whose anonymity we shall preserve, Piper turned to me...
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Today is the birthday of the best sister in the whole world (mine:)! Happy, Happy Birthday, Chelli! [AA, my favorite aunt in the whole wor...
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She knows that the child and his friend --another child-- read her words. She hides small messages of hope and love ...
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Did the grown up thing and signed our wills today. Then I was in a bad mood for the rest of the day. All our year-long vacillations on the a...
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