Browse Topics

The White Guitar

In fourth grade, after the bra-and-girdle notebook affair, we all fell in love with Julia Harris. By “we” I mean the foreign boys in Madame Bouvet’s class, and also Pascal Fourtané, the only French boy we foreigners hung out with.

Gary Blake

I met Gary Blake at the meditation hall. It was a place of silence, but Gary Blake was not a silent man.

The Man In The Mirror

On the best of days, it’s a little like falling in love; like opening a stuck window inside yourself; like taking a drug — one that’s perfectly legal, dispensed by your own apothecary, your strange and marvelous brain.

Selected Poems

My Date With Marilyn

It must have been a real publicity bust for Marilyn and her people. I mean, here it is thirty years later, and I’ve never seen anything about it in all the flood of words about her since.

The Law Of Relation

(Part One)

I am in search of the autonomian, the laws that make themselves in a life, growing out of one’s own dilemmas: not the imposed law but the organic law, rooted in the whole mind and heart.

The Baby Machine

The next day was Sunday, and after church Peggy was born time after time. “Being born” meant sliding down the trough into the pillow. Magda knew that babies were born with diapers on, so that was how Peggy was dressed.

Notes On Sex And Love

Love is an energy. It is not something you can force. Love energy is something you can become receptive to, because it is always there underneath the surface. Love energy is joyous, and joy is always linked to sexual feelings. What we call sex is a small part of love energy.

Walking

Clea took my hand and we swung arms like little kids. At college, I would never hold hands walking down the street. But here, I didn’t care who saw me or what they thought.

Selected Poems