by Warren Gaston | Aug 20, 2020
What’s the difference, let’s say, between a poem and a recipe. Both feed. Or a brochure on cool spots in Cleveland some funky local thinks visitors should see. Poets suggest different ways of seeing. How is Dr. William’s red wheelbarrow scribbled on a grabbed...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 17, 2020
I do not utter the word ‘absolute.’ Don’t like it. Don’t use it. Don’t dream it. Nothing is absolute. Absolutely nothing~ -nothing without limitation -nothing unbounded -nothing unrestricted -nothing absolutely absolute Facts are absolute but need...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 13, 2020
A short list of people who were never born, not conceived, not dreamed up, not a gleam in someone’s eye. Romulus Baird Laurel Frankenstar Bertram Bacardus Willy Simgrip Ivor Pollingham Missy Darman Hans Harlow Renee Tussore Tuzla Niderstill Rosa Effel They will...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 12, 2020
July 5, 1955 11:30 p.m. The house was hot. I couldn’t sleep. I got out of bed. My father was in his study with the fan on. My mother was nowhere to be found. She was sitting on the steps of our front porch. I came out and sat down. No clouds. No moon. A blazing...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 11, 2020
The cat was loved. She did not know the verb love. Nor the 4 letters including ‘v’ & ‘l’. She was unfamiliar with the concept of affection. As a concept. Tactility was her medium of exchange. A touch. A tone. Food in her bowl. She rubbed against my...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 10, 2020
You’re not going to believe a word of this, not a word, although it’s true, sort of. I was told this by a man who sometimes lies. We all lie a little, sometimes. We say what’s true is false. We say what’s false is true. Not always. Sometimes. What I’m telling you is...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 10, 2020
All the verbs in the world could not eliminate the need for nouns. Nouns sit, stubborn in their meanings, bricked up against the winds of change. They are not what they are but the names of what they are not. They are words. Not cars. Not bowling balls. Always, Nouns...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 8, 2020
In my garden there is a stack of stones. I worked to balance them weeks ago, steady handed, one upon the other. On the apex, a piece of blue glass crowned with a gold painted pebble. I expected to restack the stones each day, assuming the poise would not survive night...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 6, 2020
I wake in the morning. I get the paper. I read the headlines. On the masthead in bold print I read: News of the World You Helped Create.
by Warren Gaston | Aug 3, 2020
the river flows into the town through the town out of the town the river locates the town it is on the river a river town the town confines the river the river divides the town the council planning bridges the river is on its mind. an old man fishing the river is on...
