Browse Topics
Identity
Sunbeams
October 2005If we will be quiet and ready enough, we shall find compensation in every disappointment.
The Irving
In the small Nebraska town where I live, I am known as “the cook.” People I don’t know will often stare at me fuzzily for a moment before a flash of recognition lights their face: “Hey, I know you. You’re the cook.” Which is reasonable enough, I suppose, since I am the cook at the Olde Main Street Inn, the chief dinner house in town. It isn’t exactly what I’ve dreamed of being all my life, however. To be honest, being the cook is an unwanted byproduct of my efforts to be “the writer.”
October 2005Sunbeams
September 2005In a room where people unanimously maintain a conspiracy of silence, one word of truth sounds like a pistol shot.
The Saint, The Murderer, All Of It
Li-Young Lee’s Poetry Of Reconciliation
I believe the only possible ethical consciousness is one that accounts for the whole human being, that doesn’t leave any of it out — and this is precisely what poetry can achieve. On a social scale, this would be a government that accounts for all of its population — the poor, the rich, women, men, children, old people, black, white. Poetry is a way to integrate all of who we are: the saint, the murderer, all of it. By this, I don’t mean to suggest that we give the murderer free rein, but we have to account for that aspect of human psychology and understand it, not just push it aside.
August 2005Sunbeams
July 2005Fame will go by and, so long; I’ve had you, fame. I’ve always known it was fickle. So at least it’s something I experienced, but that’s not where I live.
20, 40, 60, 80
Middle-aged people shrink, crease, fade, and, if they’re lucky, slowly lose the desire to be noticed, the way we once lost our childhood taste for Necco Wafers or Pez. My desire to be seen is gradually being replaced by the desire to see: the faces of those I love, the cardinal in the bush, the socks of the woman with MS who swims at the Y.
July 2005The View From Here
Later, I didn’t listen to the radio as much. There was less music and more announcements. Again they began to use the insect words to refer to us. My father used to say, “When they no longer speak of you as people, it means they can kill you.”
June 2005Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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