by Warren Gaston | Nov 19, 2024
I learn from past centuries. And why not? They knew a lot. I am not bigoted, not against the dead, not against quickless bodies, not against minds soaked with unfamiliar alphabets. The long gone teachers still teach; Ovid – things are and are not what they...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 18, 2024
I was ten and new, out with older boys, my knowledgeable friends, singing exquisitely lewd songs, under the echoing Wolf Creek bridge, songs about girls and beer, things we knew little about but didn’t know we knew little and wanted to know more. We were comrades in...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 17, 2024
When does so much and so many become too much and too many?
by Warren Gaston | Nov 16, 2024
The flowers of grief are bitter and sweet. They taste of storms, marigold pollen, fire, home, and distances. The bee flies far from the hive on its twofold task of nectar and pollination. The flower blooms its spring-long sigh then shrivels in summer’s heat. The honey...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 14, 2024
It’s quiet in the library, few decibels among Dewey’s decimals. Bone insulated brains with holes allowing smell, sound and light willingly concede to facts and refined opinions. We read in agreement with rules that create a culture of hush, promoting an enrichment of...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 8, 2024
All day long I g*d, attempting good, I g*d, attempting love, I g*d, righting wrongs, I g*d, my wrongs, our wrongs, mending and amending harms, insults, offences, recovering damages, I g*d. Sometimes repairs work. Sometimes repairs impair. I’m not that good at good. At...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 6, 2024
There are moons, most yellow, some blue, slivered, half, and whole, all lit with another light, the sun, which is down, still shines, loaning light to night
by Warren Gaston | Oct 28, 2024
I fell asleep and remembered my mother’s dying. She lay head high in the tilted bed a sled for the long slow slide into sleep. The sheets, white, a field of snow drifting and silencing. Deer thin as arrows hungry on the hill that was my mother’s body their...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 28, 2024
the soft mass of their bodies sync them together, as protons and electrons hug holding atoms in a congenial equation, the carnal equivalent of E=MC2 E = the ergs of erotic energy required to charm our bodies toward the voluptuous volatility of uncritical mass. ...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 21, 2024
the river runs through the town before the town after the town the river locates the town it is on the river a river town the town confines the river the river divides the town the council building bridges the river is on its mind an old man fishing the river is on...
