Humor

Are these lovely thoughts a memory,
or just thoughts posing as one?
Memory is perhaps a traitor,
but my age, it is a kindly one
when it brings a summer afternoon,
moments of sixty years [+]

Penelope nestled against the pillows on her bed, pretending not to see the stack of cardboard boxes stacked in the corner of her new room. Their jumbled contents could be dealt with in the morning [+]

Baltimore spring 1993, a funeral wake for the cremated June. Set consists of an urn on a table center stage and a few surrounding chairs. NELSON, June’s awkward, self-restrained grandson, an [+]

Make it new. Said Ezra Pound. Which always conjured for me a forced march, a guy with a gun compelling the unarmed man in front of him to do something he doesn’t want to do.
Did you see a guy [+]

Overwhelmed and needed someone to talk to. So overwhelmed I couldn’t even decipher what was wrong. Mom is in the Netherlands – living it up – and I need to be at work within the next 5 minutes [+]

Art detested coffee, as a concept. He, like most overly socially conscious, urbane young professionals, felt righteously indignant on behalf of the underpaid coffee bean pickers and roasters. He [+]