Golden Age Drinking

From some neighbor’s place, “Moon River.” It trickles down the stairs & under our door. It puts chopsticks in my chignon & spritzes you with Youth Dew. In the Mansion of Many Apartments, the 60s is a locked rec room we can’t get into. They’ve changed the code. I guess we just have to stand… More

Our Books, Our Books

The question is whether to quell this profligate book writing. Everyone’s “putting out” books. We pulp our words before pouring them right back in. How many times can we fold the same bone? Dad used to fill our slack with dumb conundrums. He said: Would you rather empty industrial grease traps for a living or… More