That dapper little gentleman to the left is our dog, Petey. Petey is almost fourteen, and every day he wears a bandanna from his large collection. He loves pig ears. He will wade with great caution into the lake if he can a) see the bottom clearly and b) only up to his chest, at … Continue reading Send me photos of your dogs and their toys!
I wanted to write about why I love this poem so much, but it grabbed me by the throat and told me that it could speak for itself, thanks. This Is a Migrant Poem, by Miguel M. Morales This is a migrant poem a farmworking poem, a poem that covers itself in long sleeves to … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Miguel M. Morales
Behold the beautiful cover of my sister Holly’s beautiful new children’s novel Matylda, Bright and Tender (a title I love so much that I say it to myself over and over). Matylda is a leopard gecko, cared for with wonder and devotion by two nine-year-old best friends named Guy and Sussy. There’s a special kinship between Guy … Continue reading “Matylda, Bright and Tender”
A long, long time ago I read Innumeracy, a slender, astonishing book by the mathematician John Allen Paulos, in which he explains how the inability of most of us to deal rationally with enormous numbers results in confused personal decisions and public policy as well as susceptibility to pseudoscience of all kinds. In one chapter Paulos lays … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Tim Nolan
August 25th, 1849 My dear Mary, You would long since have received a letter from me had it not have been for want of leisure. You who have lived here must remember what a scene of hurry & bustle the house always presents, but more particularly in the Summer season, and although my own little … Continue reading My dear Mary
That photo over there to the right is the very long tail of a very large rat that ran over my bare feet as I stood at the stove cooking dinner. The story behind the tail is one of intrigue and horror – me sauteeing vegetables at the stove while chatting with The Painter who … Continue reading Poem of the Week, by Elizabeth Acevedo
Friends, I’m old enough to remember the Willie Horton ad. I’m old enough to remember when the Central Park Jogger –who was around my age, a jogger like me, white like me, educated like me– was raped and left for dead. I remember being terrified at the idea of “wilding” youths –who, somehow, were always black– … Continue reading Postcard from the Ledge: 13th