by Warren Gaston | Nov 8, 2017
The house is falling down. Let’s paint the walls. There are termites in the attic which explains water in the basement. Let us decorate with pictures of sound houses, hanging blueprints and architectural renderings. The nails pound easily. Think of the strength of...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 31, 2017
A horse grazes in a field among blossoms as a bee alights on a sun seed bloom. The horse sees a blur of translucent wings pass the brown window of her dreamy eye. The horse considers the way of the bee, its lightness, its floral life, its honeyed household in the...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 29, 2017
Paris, France – October 2016 Looking through the window of a Paris tour bus, I see you you don’t see me as we weave our way through traffic around the Arc de Triomphe in opposite directions, west to east, east to west. I filch radiance flicked from your chin,...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 19, 2017
A Prose Poem While reading Charles Baudelaire’s The Flowers of Evil in my garden, a tiny spider walked across a poem titled ‘The Jinx,’ I slammed the book shut. When I opened it, there was a miniscule red stain between “vita brevis” and “ars longa.”...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 14, 2017
A Prose Poem I was three years old. It was spring. I was playing in the garden. I startled a mud toad under a green leaf. The toad leapt away. I wanted him to play. I hurled a stone and hit the toad, killing it. I ran to tell my mother. My mother cried. She was no...
