the leaves speak
watch us pirouette prima donnas of the air multiplying until the brown grass becomes a patchwork quilt of many colors rake us in your sleep you’ll never be rid of us aim the blower at us we spiral into the… Read more ›
watch us pirouette prima donnas of the air multiplying until the brown grass becomes a patchwork quilt of many colors rake us in your sleep you’ll never be rid of us aim the blower at us we spiral into the… Read more ›
San Carlos is a dog rousing itself from the paving stones to comb the streets for food, a kingfisher swooping down on its glittering prey, a woman singing to herself as she sweeps the sidewalk clean. Last night’s throbbing… Read more ›
At La Luna del Rio the river rushes past the wooden balconies like a frothy sea, swirling in eddies around the bobbing canoes as if it were going to engulf the entire town, to sweep away the pilings and flood… Read more ›
it’s easy to pretend there’s nothing wrong that you simply slept too long drank too much last night that a cold is coming on that it’s your losses in the market or the somber winter morning that oppress you … Read more ›
Propelled by last night’s heavy rains, the leaves pirouette to the ground, blanketing the brown sere grass in a quilt of many colors, clogging the downspouts, filling in the tunnels the moles had dug out in the spring. A… Read more ›
the apartment by the tracks that I rented from the dwarf contained no shower just a bucket of water hanging in the courtyard heated only by the sun so on cloudy days I frequented the hammam where wiry cross-eyed Hamid… Read more ›
The twinkie is extinct, they recently announced. We used to nail them to the wall to see how long they would last. I guess even the finest chemicals can’t preserve things forever. Take the bible thumpers who believe the Grand… Read more ›
“A beautiful carpet brings a smile to your face each morning” (Persian saying) The skeins of yarn deftly wound around the warp in Turkish or Persian knots have survived the tread of children’s feet the hurried pace of the… Read more ›
from time to time she appears to me staring through the window of our battered Renault in the same kerchief patterned with red roses she wore four decades ago hugging the same puny dog scarred by patches of mange she… Read more ›
If I were a leaf-cutter ant, I’d gnaw at your illness and with my helpers carry it piece by piece across the road. If I were a giant whale shark I’d let you cling like a remora to my… Read more ›