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A few months ago woman mailed me an old picture; a cow in a field of short grass. In the background was a man and a boy on a tractor, they were in straw hats. Even from fifty years away I could still feel the heat of the sun that day. I could smell the grass, now hay, cut and drying in that sun.
I slowly became lost in the photo. I remember that cow, we ate her. Tough meat. She went down fighting, I remember the day. I stood there while she was shot in the head. [Read more…] about A Farm
This whole Syria bombing thing had me thinking all day about the barroom days.
There was this guy, I fought him a lot, his name was Carlos, a real asshole. He was a drug dealer, heroin. He raped at least two women. I hated him. [Read more…] about The Syria Bombing Thing
My friend has cancer, really bad stage four-fuck up your life-this ain’t no joke-fucking cancer.
When we first found out she was sick we wanted to take her to the Cancer Treatment Center in Philadelphia, about 80 miles from home. But that would make too much sense, so her insurance company in their profound wisdom, decided that she should go to the cancer treatment center in Newnan Georgia. A fine center it is, filled with fine, very capable, very kind and knowledgeable people. Quite possibly some of the most caring people I’ve ever met in my life. There is only one downside, if you don’t factor in the fact that she has stage four, fucking-fuck up your life cancer, the downside is that she is 1000 miles away from home and family and friends and people who love her and care about her. [Read more…] about my friend has cancer and that’s not even the worst of it
I had a surprise meeting, a meeting of the minds, I suppose, last night with this young woman, Jennie Torres, a writer, a student.
We talked about writing, novels and short stories and blogs and music. We discussed the importance of creating change, if nothing else creating a dialog though our work. We discussed the difference between great writing and the nonsense available as published work today; too many stories of wizards and demons and vampires and bare-chested men with wings – and not enough actual literature that makes people think.
The difference between telling a real story story through music, hip-hop, or glorifying a negative image of a culture that already has far too much negativity and prejudice attached to it.
The importance of poetry, real, raw, angry poetry.
The importance of keeping it real.
I showed her this Hemingway quote:
“In the morning there was a big wind blowing and the waves were running high up on the beach and he was awake a long time before he remembered that his heart was broken.”
It was amazing to see her reaction, from her appreciation for simple, perfect sentence structure, to the emotions she felt from this handful of words. [Read more…] about This thing called life — sitting on a couch in Newburgh, NY
Ireland 1847 – No green beer. No corned beef, no cabbage. No potatoes. No shamrocks or leprechauns. Starvation. Betrayal. Ruined lands and lives. Watch the heavy laden ships sail to England, with the crops and cattle of your land, while your family starves to death. Swear allegiance to the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.
