Right from the jar with a fork I suck, beet juice dripping. I’m desperate for redness, want it on my tongue, inside me, outside me, paint for my warrior face, for my warrior place, addicted to those blood red days, drunk with missing those blood red days. [Read more...]

First, drink six beers and smoke three joints. Since it’s a Saturday night in the 1970s and you’re in college, this is what you’re supposed to do. Be delighted that by midnight, your room is packed. Like you, everyone has been consuming various substances, which makes such things as the guy playing air-harmonica to a J. Geils record extra funny. [Read more...]

“All meals should be breakfast,” the Dark See proclaimed, squirting an avalanche of ketchup across her Devil With a Blue Dress omelette. She cut a violent swath through her meal. Chewing, the Dark See pointed out the window with her fork. “You see that guy across the street?” she said through a mouthful of egg, “The one dressed like a rockabilly Roy Orbison? He used to be a trick.” [Read more...]

It’s a warm day in late May, just perfect, and I’m as hopeful about this outing as I am desperate: the two of them, the three of us, we’ve always squabbled. Wrangled is probably a better word. Over the decades there have been huge eruptions, and long, siege-like silences, along with a great deal of routine sniping, and, though peace has occurred, it’s not the norm. [Read more...]

The fields turn to puddles and straw, the pathways around campus are ruts of viscous mud, and there are buckets scattered about inside the buildings to catch the multitude of leaks that develop every rainstorm. I am studying hard, and I enjoy college. And I immediately love Next Generation, especially Captain Picard. He does not replace Spock in my heart, but he is admirable and intelligent and has a palpable integrity. I love Thoreau and Emerson and Picard and Spock. [Read more...]