Month: December 2017

  • We’re all gonna die.

    We’re all gonna die.

    Death is something we don’t like to think about much, especially our own. I don’t believe it’s good to dwell on it too much, because there’s a lot of life to live. But that life really doesn’t mean much without death. Think of it as a deadline that you never know when it’s gonna come. […]

  • Poetry and Injustice

    Poetry and Injustice

    This week we pulled over from our regularly-scheduled program of. . .whatever it was I was gonna teach–maybe it was the villanelle form; anyway–we got off track in order to discuss the United States’ president’s decision to end the DACA program (Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals). The basics: DACA promised the children of immigrants two […]

  • My Friend Monty

    My Friend Monty

    I have a poet friend in North Hollywood named Monty who says he’d kill a small domestic animal if that’s what it took to get the exact word in an exact line. He likes to make sweeping statements like that, though, when I visited him recently, his dog Rvr wasn’t around—yes, Rvr. When he’d rescued […]

  • Watching Television Evil With Mom

    Watching Television Evil With Mom

    When my mother first moved in with us, she discovered the wonders of Apple TV. It took her a couple of months to figure out how the four-button remote works, what apps are, and the glories of Hulu, where she discovered FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper, played by Kyle McLaughlin. Once she saw him, she […]

  • How To Tell Your Kid There’s No Santa Clause

    How To Tell Your Kid There’s No Santa Clause

    One Christmas long ago my Appalachian father, Ralph, took his revolver, climbed on the roof, shot once into the woods, came back in and said, “Sorry folks, but looks like old Santa just committed suicide.” It was a real hoot. The whole family got it. I was a kid, but didn’t believe in Santa Claus […]