My Blog

In some past life I must have been late for a train.  Overburdened with luggage, breathless, I can see me running, fedora whisked from my head by the wind.  Only by some feat of strength, some last surge of energy, am I able to clamber aboard the moving coach, neither helped nor encouraged by the barrel-chested, walrus-whiskered conductor.  I lay breathless on the floor of the shifting

He tried to remember when he was a baby.  He could only visualize a Polaroid photograph of a party in his stepfather's basement.  There was his mother, all legs in a mini-skirt, his biological father, clueless, and, among an assortment of other mushroom-haired men, his future stepfather licking the edge of a hand-rolled cigarette. Lots of alcohol and joints were in play, and there he was, Paul,