You know, if they both wore hats, although they almost never do, and going on looks alone, I couldn’t tell the two of them apart. Certainly, Veronica can be bitchy in a playfully malicious way, and  though Betty appears to have the more pleasant personality, she has been known to pull off a vindictive prank or two. No one truly knows what’s going through the perhaps solipsistic Jughead’s mind because he’s always stuffing his face with burgers like some Wimpy-wannabe and trailing with that…

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I hope you never resort to purple prose with the heartfelt seriousness, some might say, blindness, of the inexperienced wannabe. I’d rather you stick to your customary, you know, indigo. You can be bluesy and noirish and blow me away. I love when you delineate the finite details, build memorable characters with your wild imagination, and plant my feet in some extraordinary setting that, really, could never be, or rather, could be, but never in my world. I love it because your world becomes my… Continue

You wanted to breathe a writer’s air,

so you went to the mountains, and what did you do?

You took a few pictures, heard some songs, and

took part in a remarkable reading, too.

You wrote to prompts, shared memorable meals.

The Old North trees were fresh with dew.

You left your heart. That slowed you down

just like tar on a soldier’s shoe.

 

 

 

 

[Sorry. Not quite ready to let it go. Rereading Mary Oliver after checking Cita's…

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The kind of men I really go for, the kind I like to spend time with, are not those who enjoy relating their conquests of women with that edge in their voices and the sidelong glances that are constantly checking to see if you believe them. Neither do I care for macho men who laugh wholeheartedly at jokes about gays that use the word fag, complain about how much time their wives spend gossiping, while they themselves fawn over rough and tumble sports stars, follow the careers of those… Continue

Kissing isn’t everything, but fraught as it is with the possibility of being overdone, and tied as it is to romance, we men among men must seek alternative sensations with affective quality. In our unexpressed heart-of-hearts a haptic interface just doesn’t deliver in a satisfying way. We follow rules such as standing to greet others and while hand shakes, hugs, bows, nods and nose rubbing are all acceptable somewhere in the world, the most common greeting in the west is a kiss, or kisses, on… Continue

Much of the time he bided on the fringe while passion and enthusiasm wafted like smoke filling the top half of a back room poker game in the days before political correctness. He would like to have held someone close enough to pick up on an untold secret, but the old bromide about the intellect of the quiet one was likewise wafting, and he therefore maintained that bit of distance. In the presence of new faces, shining, gleeful, friendship-eyes, and  predisposed coupling, his stance was the…

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Perhaps it was a trick of the rain-occluded light that caused us to believe that black thing dangling among the soaked leaves was a bat, but whatever it was, it never took wing throughout three-days’ observance.  Inside, in the warmth of conviviality, evening beverages on extended schedules, and some of the best damn food available on this or any other menu, along with spontaneous prompts and a few toasts, hugs, embraces, and much good cheer, succor was provided to a like-minded group of…

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• Walking into, or remembering walking into an old fashioned florist’s and being overwhelmed by the fragrances of so many fresh cut flowers as it was the few minutes you could feel whole even though you knew you were there to purchase something to commemorate the passing of a loved one because you had also had to accompany adults there long ago to commemorate especially good times.
• Eating raw vegetables and fruit and taking note as you lift a slice of cucumber to your mouth what…

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• Lingering too long over a misstep that you can’t take back, never sincerely meant to happen, but were aware of while it was happening, and friends who say, “It doesn’t really matter,” often enough for you to know that it does.
• Wanting to help, maybe financially, everyone who comes forth in need, but not being able to, and trying to judge on the spot who could use your help most; then, realizing you were audacious in judging the needs of others.
• Trying to beat a sense…

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What are my failures? Let me count the ways.

I am too much into nouns and verbs, you know, the grammar,

As I like to teach, but not to hear a stammer.

I cannot stand to find things out of place;

Where stuff is put, please, that’s where it stays.

I am easily irked by stumbles and pauses,

And one’s failure to note the ends of clauses;

Hemming and hawing as nights turn into days.

I smother with possessiveness you’d never choose,

For all my peeves,…

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Beth held a warm compress over the bruise on Sam’s jaw, and asked, “Honestly, did he hit you because I think I know that guy from before you came to Mexico, and if so, I think he’s a shady character—New York City, several months ago, a dark singles bar? As a matter of fact, you both looked familiar to me the moment I met each of you here, but I didn’t make the connection earlier because I met you first, and through Matt.” Samantha said no to both inquiries, but Beth could tell she had touched… Continue