Bent over his lap,he was a samurai. Nothing deferred him from his work.The hot sun layers down red lacquer on his neck.The late spring foxtails scratched the soft skinof his lower back where the shirt rode up.On the other sideRead more…
Lace wing disaster
A thousand lacewings caress the bare black skin of the river. Overhead, the last fat cruisers of spring’s rain steam across the ocean of sky toward a crash in the mountains that will exhaust them deliciously and have no name.Read more…
Come to Hiroshima by Ron Hertz
Come to Hiroshima to those who with no shame condone annihilation of whole cities or nations please come to Hiroshima come in early August when the heat is worst make sure you’re there on the sixth when the sweat runningRead more…
A treatise on tight pants and headrests
Rick Steve is a real person, apparently, and he writes guidebooks. He rocks. He doesn’t send you to dives, like LP does sometimes. He urges you to be a reasonable traveler, and not to be quite as American as youRead more…
The sun rose this morning
The sun rose this morning at 3:14 Everyone was quite surprised. The lavender was caught near the wisteria with its pants down. The lemon was so astonished, given how slavish he is to schedules, that he burst immediately and allRead more…
My heart is a bookstore
My heart is a bookstore. Full of stories, and the promises of the wide world. But less and less visited. Something has moved on. My mind has a digital heart that is easily accessible, but that cannot be touched. WillRead more…
When I was 20, I read a book
When I was 20, I read a book about chakras and imagined them as different car headlights hung inside my body their electrical connections dangling, like jellyfish, out my back, where no one could see. I had my arms aroundRead more…
Enough dreadful nostalgia
Will the secrets of the body, the pleasure, the pain, move on like night ferries abandoned by modernity, like ghosts indistinguishable from the sea mist so that you can look back fondly and miss them? Isn’t there enough dreadful nostalgiaRead more…
Nothing to Miss
3:30 am. Groggy but wide awake. Lurching or drifting out of sleep into the hard-edged silence of the dying hour. Maybe you are an Iyengar vegan, maybe you have the unicorn job we that provides lots of money, no stress,Read more…
If not in front of Buddha…
I found a Thai guide. Male, of course, and sexy, obviously, and volunteer. And an artist and speaks 3 languages and has a degree and an international portfolio, but is he really hot enough? Injuries are honesty avoided, but foundRead more…