In some ways, wandering in the desert

walking along the concourse Admiring the late spring sunshine dappled along shapely forms young women in sun dresses Then, it occurs to me that the few smiling back do so only because they see their grandfather whistling along with only momentary guilt

Front lawns required time, labor, and money They were meant to be remote and awe inspiring. They obscure as well as protect. Which was where they waited. Ambush. a painful memory, a small hole, a wound in the grass filled with them. Laughing and chasing bubbles, then pain and screaming. Grandmother held me down, crushed them as they stung me. Inside my clothes, you could not simply brush them off. Later, she burned them. She taught me how to do it. You wait until night, when air and ground are cool when they are sluggish Use Kerosene. it does not explode like gas. You'll need a rag. Walk softly for they can feel vibrations. She smiled, her bony finger pointed at the burned out grass "Those ones will not hurt you again. But be careful, there may be more. I bought extra kerosene." all of it came back to me I crushed them burrowing into the dogs coat. I could not simply brush them off. From a distance, it looked like he was dancing. My wife

I thought I saw you.   on Belmont and happy. A beautiful woman on your arm you were always with someone on your arm never on an arm yourself. We went to college together or rather, you and I lived four years in that same small town   a subtle but important difference I was never in love with you  more like in Awe with you     afraid Icarus' dutiful brother Charismatic doesn't cover it, you were,  I was/am in awe Everyone was in awe. Jealously, the dutiful sister of Awe you asked me if you were a bad person just because he said you were. That ungrateful man-child who shared your bed.   He said it, cruelly and you asked me if he was right asked the question like you didn't know  you were a goddess adored.   I did not try to make you feel better. A coward.   I can't apologize for that now,   everyone is gone but me.       I can only hope you have forgotten I do.  I'm sorry. I thought I saw you on

It was, you were right, a sparrow's song. Of course I knew you'd been gone for years where did you go? I had, as you know, gone nowhere or rather went with me wherever I went but you you left us both. I will likely never forgive you or myself. I'm sorry. Please come home.

Your smell has not faded from my bed but I miss us. quit your job tomorrow and stay I've got a studio, two blocks from the lake You can get a job, I still hate your mother But all will be forgiven after the children come

It was before we carpeted the living room the record player, or maybe the radio, you were dancing socks sliding on the hardwood floor freshly mopped and dried I do not remember the song you were very young so was I It was the only time I ever saw you dance

before Her bible lowered but not put down she didn't turn from its pages; half whispered her incrimination. "You cannot make a crooked thing straight." Then the long sigh. It sounded like air leaking from a low-pressure tire. Soft. Rustling like those onion-skin pages and final: King James Versionesq. during No one actually called it an intervention Bobby had asked if we would order pizza, in the serious tone he always uses; sounds like a politician, or a weather man Like this was an Event. His affected voice wet, after he'd spit out the nicotine gum he'd been chewing like cud. He was a psychotic cow. She didn't even bother to answer that no, we were not going to order pizza. She would not answer him; too busy judging me. Like he was my fault. I am not my brothers keeper. Nor my father's son. She blamed me for that, too. They both did. But my failure was not why we had gathered. Each, in turn, explained, implored we did not want hi

Barachu Adonai Eloheinu there are moments on the road when it becomes  the territory. The edge lines inscribe a lurking gnosis: A Knowledge of The Road of Good and Evil An Understanding of path, line and arc.  A midrash of velocity and vector. Hallelujah! 35 45 55 Behold! Limits to speed are a myth!  They are a false covenent! The signs portend the Watchers, and a tax on the Quick.   V'tatislainu mikaf kol oyeiv v'State Patrol v'Chayot ra-ot bDerech. Right left right right left  the turns in succession The Arcs of the Covenant. Turn into, break before, accelerate out. The wheel slides back to center: l'merkatz. Engine and Clutch: Rabbi and Cantor.  Road, Word, and Wheel Detroit steel  Miskahn Tefilat. The throaty voiced rankin cycle sings of thee.  pistons dance and camshafts  chant internal combustion spirituals.   The wheels claw and pull and evangelize. They convert the miles of road before  into miles of roa

August heat and humidity I hated the fairway, your unwilling caddy the clubhouse cool and dark it had a particular smell you smoked inside back then a cold but not quite frozen Hersey bar With Almonds Melting on my tongue

I have forgotten the exact moment of our first kiss the missed opportunities and awkwardness I remember posturing, fears and regrets we were so stupidly young If only we had known what the now would become if we had the now would be different please explain that to your wailing daughter who has declared she will never again speak to me a punishment for smiling while her heart is breaking because of some boy whose name  I have also forgotten before foolishly encouraging her to do the same

the bagel, of course, landed cream cheese side down the older child agreed with me on the interpretation of the event the younger didn't care and my wife, unkindly pointed out sometimes, it's just a fucking bagel not a metaphor for your life I disagreed, less kindly still, knowing it was another thing I would later come to regret

boshi first boshi first Staccato taps punctuated each word No, you are clumsy more muttering, surely unflattering her delicate, perfect brush strokes I do not understand you she sighed and for once I agreed

I think I would miss Apricots the most if i Survived the zombies Turkish apricots The zombie apocalypse Stole so much from us taste of apricots only lives in memory since Zombie Apocalypse

Do you think the tree remembers its leaves, the boy asked. Do you remember the hair we have cut off I replied. He frowned and had to think about that. Turning away, face pointed at the window again.  I could see his reflection in the glass.

My childhood was filled with combat well defined good and evil summer soldiers died bloodless resurrected Christlike Then I learned about boot discipline The well defined good of clean socks the evil of weight and waiting for orders boredom and fear My son is too young To understand why I am sad Every time he pulls the trigger