The cleaning ladies are back again. Their vacuum incessantly hisses while I sit here doing a ... CONTINUED
The Meaning of a Poem
What does a poem mean? Better stated, the question might be phrased "what does THIS particular poem ... CONTINUED
One Night in Utrecht
One early evening with time to kill and money to burn at the rec center always open, forever ... CONTINUED
Remembering Bukowski
Prowling the streets and lanes Of Amsterdam I used to cruise the bookstores With a fresh-faced ... CONTINUED
A Confession (of sorts)
You’d think by now I’d know better (or maybe not, who can really say?) because even though I’d ... CONTINUED
high tide
her feet brown and bare in the sun walked beside mine into the cool tide. the stillness of each ... CONTINUED
Return to Spain
I haven’t thought of Spain in years, but I remember how once it spilled forth in discussion, ... CONTINUED