by Warren Gaston | Jan 17, 2023
Our alphabet needs scrubbing, twenty-six tacky letters gummed too long, a mush of murmurs, mumbling vapid vowels, insipid syllables, wooden words, squeamish sentences, frivolous paragraphs, language bruised by languid tongues, or fingers lazy on the laptop, or...
by Warren Gaston | Jan 16, 2023
The things we can’t say, we don’t say. Would we be better off saying? Interpretation comes into play. Motivation comes into play. Priorities come into play. Politeness comes into play. The thickness of skins. Longing for transitory tranquility, do we reveal...
by Warren Gaston | Jan 15, 2023
Water plunging over stone. Gravid words scrambling hard to escape civility’s incisor edge, unscarred by courtesy. The risk: saying what needs to be said.
by Warren Gaston | Jan 11, 2023
Evidently, I don’t feel the need to be somebody. No exertion toward celebrity for me. It’s too late now. I’m in my eightieth year. If I wanted to be somebody I should have started years ago. Once I was almost somebody, briefly. Something I did a reporter thought...
by Warren Gaston | Jan 10, 2023
for Bill & Randy Deep winter, barely the new year in. the lane impassible, we parked the car on Highway 55 and hiked a freezing mile through a pine infused shadows. Arriving at the ice crusted cabin, we gathered wood, paper, matches built a fire in the cast iron...
by Warren Gaston | Jan 8, 2023
I didn’t need a t.v. weatherwoman. I knew it was cold from information gathered from the seat of my pants as I sat on an iron bench on campus in love with Mae. How did I know it was love I was in, and how did I know it was Mae? A pilot, relying on weather reports,...
