by Warren Gaston | Dec 23, 2020
I learned to eat oysters by overriding their gross appearance with mental force, willed my revulsed senses to stand down, then placed the gray globule in my mouth. I forgave, to my delight, the oyster’s sensory offenses and let the bivalve mollusk linger behind...
by Warren Gaston | Dec 21, 2020
There are places in this world where I have stood and looked. Not tourist places although I have seen: the Eiffel Tower, the Pantheon, the Parthenon, and La Sagrada Familia. In those places I was rushed, I was jostled, I had to get through. It was not the Grand Canyon...
by Warren Gaston | Dec 21, 2020
Typing long hours I relax my hands arms dangling fingers spread beside the chair I feel the cat’s smooth nose rubbed in my palm. Elgin, Illinois 1972 _______________________________________________________________________________________________ I was typing a...
by Warren Gaston | Dec 18, 2020
Like you, I mostly talk to myself, sensible in sunlight, weirder in moonlight, all day one long tête-à-tête one head with two voices, both of them mine. Surprisingly, I don’t know what these voices will say until they say it. You’d think I would know for obvious...
by Warren Gaston | Dec 15, 2020
It was raining in the city. It was too cold to be raining. Snow had been predicted, almost guaranteed. The temperature: fifteen degrees below freezing Fahrenheit. And it was raining, not snowing, in the city. The sky was hysterical, trying to sort itself out. Clouds...
