by Warren Gaston | Apr 20, 2022
Fascists fear differences. They dream of homogeny as they go xeroxing their way into a monochromatic future. A taco on a menu, they think of reinforced borders, dim sum, they do not think of Chinese cuisine. They think of aliens arriving from the Orient. Diversity...
by Warren Gaston | Apr 19, 2022
Since I was a small boy, I was aware that I would become an old man. One of my keenly felt memories is sitting with my grandfather and two of his old friends on a porch stoop in the dark. The Camp Washington section of Cincinnati, Ohio where he lived was succumbing to...
by Warren Gaston | Apr 10, 2022
There is something I want to say, and someone specifically I want to say it to. You. Of the 7.9 billion current sets of ears, none of them will do. None of them are you. The words to speak are here. Your ears to hear are not. Unpicked fruit hanging from a tree....
by Warren Gaston | Apr 4, 2022
Railroad trains are fascist. Locomotives have no steering wheel. The train’s direction is determined by the one who laid the track, from despot to depot. No swerving. Nonconformity forbidden. The wheels constricted to roll straight, no deviation from the stated norm....
by Warren Gaston | Apr 1, 2022
We are snow, women and men, made of water fallen from high through weak sun and cold sky. Vegetation forms facial features, sticks for arms, ice for bones, dense carbon forms an eye. The earth turns and tilts, turns and tilts. The turn gives us a day. The tilt carries...
