July 10, 2017
I remember hawking the Philadelphia Bulletin on boardwalk in Wildwood, N.J. when Son of Sam was captured. It was August of 1977 and I was 10 years old. I should have been scared that summer, reading each day about how he had killed six people and wounded seven and left letters for police […]
She was ditzy in that way he was learning
the really smart girls could be,
as if thoughts and notions were knocking
the pictures off the walls of her mind
in an internal tussle.
But how smart was he,
here on the toilet lid with a beer bottle
between his legs and an ice cube
pressed against his ear lobe
as she […]
Now is not the time for squirming,
unless of course some angry guy on TV
says we should squirm if we really love America.
*
Now is not the time to duck,
unless of course some drive-time radio
panic artist tells us to get under the table.
[…]
That’s what you get if you win a round the Samoan said after my right cross glanced off his cheek and his response shifted my nose from the center of my face to somewhere near my right ear.
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It took about a week for the Polish nun who ruled supreme over my 2nd grade class to notice I had stopped praying aloud like my classmates who dutifully repeated the Our Father and Hail Mary spelled out on the chalk board.
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