A good memory of a friend of mine—Halloween 5 years ago, running hand in hand through sprinklers on the Stanford oval. The strange thing is, I can’t make all the memories come back—trying hard to think on old times two years after his death—I realize why people mourn forgetting the face. To hold onto grief—as if maybe they could still be here, just outside the...
I have a friend at work, she must not be a day under 70. Shakes, talks in slow tones, gives me 3 phone numbers at a time. Today, she told me about the virgin of Guadalupe. Well, I reminded her I was a religious studies major, which as I’ve said many times, is pretty much a beacon to all…shall I say…eccentrically minded people…jumping and shining, saying ‘Ah!...
Germany and France, France and Germany; two estranged brothers. Charlemagne, Vichy, European debt crisis darlings. Entangled through history, codependent enemies who love each other, weighing over the top of europe. The prodigal son returned, the…not prodigal, son. Prince of cinema, occasional prince of such. Two chloes, wandering one apartment in nightly plumes of hip smoke,...
The moon, or, Ithaca's Gravity
A big gray rock, pockmarked with old asteroids, and left for dead years ago. With obstinant refusal to leave be, pulling, pulling, pulling me back in. “Just when I think I’m out….” [Al Pacino] I have nothing against my home. In fact, I quite like it well enough, I suppose. But that may be one too many qualifier to prove unequivocability. And yet, on this latest venture home, something...