ANGELS * * * A children’s dentist in a little upstate New York city. A room on the second floor of an old house, light filtering in through large paned windows. A fish tank burbling in the corner, orange and blue and yellow fish darting in and out of the windows of a small castle. … Continue reading Write about a word that makes you squirm
“Sublime.” A long time ago. A house that I used to live in, being repainted by two house painters. One of them a young man with red-blonde hair, newly diabetic, still figuring out how to live with it. Sometimes he started to crash, so I kept the door unlocked and orange juice in the refrigerator … Continue reading Miniature Torta #4: Three Words
My mother, an only child born and raised in Manhattan by poor but arts-loving parents, tried her best to instill an appreciation of culture in her own children. This was a strictly uphill battle. She used to sign us up for things against our will, such as the symphony usherette program in Utica, 20 miles … Continue reading Miniature Torta #3: "The Voyage of Life"
I walked into the Y this morning and saw an old friend at the other end of the room, next to the window, studying the instructions for a new machine. She lifted her hand and tucked her dark hair behind her ear. She looked young and fit. Happiness rushed through me at the sight of … Continue reading Miniature Torta #2: A nimbus-clouded voice
How to Make a Poetry Hut First, read through some of the thousands of poems you’ve copied down over the years. Do not be surprised when you end up spending the entire morning doing this. Find this one, by Hafiz: With that Moon Language Admit something: Everyone you see, you say to them, “Love me.” … Continue reading The Poetry Hut