by Warren Gaston | Dec 26, 2022
Standing in an aisle of fruits and vegetables, past sacks of flour and rows of canned beans, bread loafs sheathed in plastic, potatoes and corn bagged in edible disguises, glistening pink salmon, scintillating trout, gray piled clams, blood red beef, pale pork, a...
by Warren Gaston | Dec 22, 2022
On this particular day, I did what I do on other particular days, got up, washed up, ate up, cleaned up, hurried up, went downtown, sat down, got down to work, hunkered down, at the watercooler I was put down, felt let down I slowed down, left downtown, came home,...
by Warren Gaston | Dec 5, 2022
Associative progression: A milkweed pod, a brown-eyed cow, the milky way.
by Warren Gaston | Nov 30, 2022
No actors. No bird songs, no squirrels, no lumbering groundhogs, no deer eyes soft among trees. Only things acted upon, rustling leaves, water dripping from a downspout, a shadow moving with the sun. The scene was fauna free. Then a house fly landed on my ankle,...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 28, 2022
I look for you. I know you are dead but I look for you. An irrational act, but I look for you. Not in a city taking up space, you’ve timed out of space, but in a peripheral time, the suburb of memory where dead friends live. I remember them, at least try to, I offer...
