by Warren Gaston | Nov 28, 2024
the whole world the hole whirled toward reversals a retreat a rally, a sally a recoiling finale
by Warren Gaston | Nov 23, 2024
I am looking for a word that speaks what cannot be spoken.
by Warren Gaston | Nov 19, 2024
I learn from past centuries. And why not? They knew a lot. I am not bigoted, not against the dead, not against quickless bodies, not against minds soaked with unfamiliar alphabets. The long gone teachers still teach; Ovid – things are and are not what they...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 18, 2024
I was ten and new, out with town boys, my knowledgeable friends, singing exquisitely lewd songs, under the echoing Wolf Creek bridge, songs about girls and beer, things we knew little about but didn’t know we knew little and wanted to know more. We were comrades in...
by Warren Gaston | Nov 17, 2024
When does so much and so many become too much and too many?
by Warren Gaston | Nov 16, 2024
The flowers of grief are bitter and sweet. They taste of storms, marigold pollen, fire, home, and distances. The bee flies far from the hive on its twofold task of nectar and pollination. The flower blooms its spring-long sigh then shrivels in summer’s heat. The honey...
