by Warren Gaston | Nov 19, 2020
leaves chasing wind wind chasing leaves either way, November day
by Warren Gaston | Nov 15, 2020
I sleep, and my life slinks away from my fame, as if, embarrassed by my daylight magnitude, I wait for a safe dark to make modifications; new roles, new vocabulary, new gestures, new plot to stage in the absurd theater of night. Some mornings I wake up, my tap dance...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 10, 2020
This animal is going down, me – indubitably, inevitably, not yet, hopefully not soon, but sometime – down. Not up. Up is overrated overstated, overblown, over priced. Over and out. Beyond is beneath, not above all else, but down – below,...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 3, 2020
We are not taking sides. We are making sides. We have drawn a line down the center of our paper and now we are sick. We have made sides where before no sides existed. On one side of the line there is nothing. On the other side there is also nothing. Both sides of the...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 1, 2020
Some days you get up in the morning and forget quite why you are alive. It’s been raining all night. Rain falling still. The morning sky barely brighter than the night sky. Your slippers are wrong under the bed, right where left should be, left where right should be,...
