The Bird Man is on the move. He’s wearing a sweat jacket and a ball cap because it’s cold. It’s 38 degrees this morning, and typically, such as during summer, the Bird Man will wear only an old white T-shirt that you and I might demote to rag status, as well as jeans that noContinue reading “Bird Man”
Category Archives: prose
White lies
Sugar-coated almonds at a wedding. You bury the bride in her white dress. While they are nice to look at, you cannot bite on pearls. For instance, I do not need to see an ivory piano on which Mozart played. Or if the piano were situated in a jewelry box, raised up as if onContinue reading “White lies”
Numbness and flying
I’ve always thought it would be nice to be placed under anesthesia before a plane ride. That way, you don’t have to fret over the prospect of crashing or face the slow-moving hours of flight. Before you know it, you’re in Thailand. Flying is like having surgery, anyway. After liftoff, the matter is out ofContinue reading “Numbness and flying”
Some notes
Schubert’s notes softly coexist. Variations like an energy field. Potentiality, then sonata eighth notes. Piano — universal life field. Bionetwork notes. I am a C major w/ tendencies of D minor. Do C major and D minor exist beyond the piano or any other instrument. If a note rang out in the forest and noContinue reading “Some notes”
Hanging to dry
My favorite blue towels hang to dry, and I see they are next to threadbare. Over the rack, they seem to have personality (or at least life.) The upshot is there’s still some drying left in them. After a shower, I get dressed and go to work. I walk across the long street to myContinue reading “Hanging to dry”
There really is a Godot
For the longest time, there was construction @ the Jones Blvd./Russell Rd intersection, but t’was a mystery as to who the new tenant would be. Time wore on, and work trucks pushed around the cat litter that is characteristic of vacant lots in Las Vegas. Eventually, the structure began taking shape. A car wash, IContinue reading “There really is a Godot”
Lunch and Peter Lorre
JS Bach piano sonatas, where the dance across the keys is a carefree & confident one; where notes are like bubbles in champagne during gala conversation. I am happiest with Bach, where nothing could go wrong, tho I do fancy being happily drunk on mimosas to Chopin’s piano impromptu No. 1 in A-flat major, Op.Continue reading “Lunch and Peter Lorre”
Bathgate Ave in the Bronx
A waffle would be nice a waffle w/ hot melting butter & maple syrup is good in winter log cabin/greatgrandma’s house soft rug cold cat nose reruns of daytime soaps auntie L watching intently on the sofa Debussy grilledcheese/coffee&cake /reassurance a lift home laughter/gamesofcardsforpennies homemadestruffoli/&/tenderpanettone easy chair&ottomen greatgrandma/mom&dadhappy/me/sister/brother/cousins sandwiches after dinner cordials+cookies long/Sundays & thenContinue reading “Bathgate Ave in the Bronx”
Black coffee and saucer
Black coffee in espresso cup resting on saucer atop secondhand book purchased for 25¢. In bed I continue reading Allen Ginsberg’s Planet News. Morning outside: the sun struggles against the clouds. Reminded of Whitman while reading. Reminded of proclamations, with Ginsberg’s text stretching from end to end on page after page. Reminded of Ferlinghetti, withContinue reading “Black coffee and saucer”
