Poetry & Prose

Reading Federico Garcia Lorca

On my patio, a fly and I are reading Federico Garcia Lorca. My eyes lift words from the page. The fly lands, walks among letters, commas, puzzles at a question mark, trips over four syllable words, walks, not reads, between lines. The fly knows neither the word aqua...

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The Confession 

I was sitting in a hotel lobby in Barcelona, Spain waiting for my traveling companions. A woman approached me, someone I didn't know. “Excuse me,” she said, sitting down in the empty chair beside me. . “May I ask you a favor?” “Certainly,” I said out of polite...

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Vive la Difference

“Sexual difference is probably the issue in our time       which could be our ‘salvation’ if we thought it through.” — Luce Irigaray Several years ago for Father’s Day, my step-daughter gave me a tee-shirt. Printed in bold letters on the front were the words: Radical...

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