Here’s what driving carpool really means: the floors of your car fill up with food remains, the seams of your seats darken with embedded crumbs, the windows smudge over with the residue of sticky/sweaty foreheads, noses, lips and fingers, the air sours with the lingering odor of left-behind articles of clothing peeled off while wet, half-sucked […]
Archive for the ‘The Arts’ Category
The Marvelous Boy
Posted in Adolescents/Teenagers, Books, Boys, Daughters, Feminism, Girls, Growing up, Masculinity, Men, The Genders on October 12, 2014 | Leave a Comment »
Tucked Between the Pages
Posted in Friendship, Poetry, Reminiscences on September 19, 2014 | 1 Comment »
-For those who dwell within Tucked between the pages was a birthday card from Mort, who apparently missed my party in 1998 but was thoughtful enough to give me a book of poetry celebrating grandparenthood. Taller than me, older than me, more experienced in the world than me, Mort was kind enough to let me […]
This is Not Poetry
Posted in Love, Marriage, Music, Poetry, Romance on August 27, 2014 | 1 Comment »
Romance begins with anticipation, ripens with limited time, stolen moments, languid looks broken by shyness, making us turn away before hungrily returning. Poetry, too, requires mere snippets of time and space.
Natural Habitats
Posted in Books, Cats, Fantasies, Fear, Lions, Love, Lust, Midlife, Natural World, Romance, Savannah, Sexuality on August 7, 2014 | Leave a Comment »
I. Lying in wait. On the savannah, on the plain, in desert sands and next to humid river beds, the predator lies in wait. Something has given off its scent, awakened its hunger. Fully awake now, the lion follows the scent, alerted to the herd’s presence. He watches, determines which of the […]
Anger in the Living Room
Posted in Anger, Books, Kindness, Relationships, Thich Nhat Hahn on May 31, 2014 | Leave a Comment »
Here’s the best advice I’ve ever heard on knowing if someone’s the right guy to marry: marry the man who respects and values his mother. Not just loves her, as few mortals can admit to not loving their Mums, even the Mums who messed them up. Run, don’t walk, away from those who love their […]