the language I used to know has disappeared with your sound, your scent, and with me no longer near it, I have wasted entire days and months trying to smell, to hear it, among the virus and death, that late artifact tongue that spoke only of you and to you and for you…

This is the second mirror I’ve had hanging here on the back of this closet door. The first one shattered almost exactly a year ago (2/4/2020) when I put my hand into it. Twice. In quick succession. Wound up with glass all over my bedroom floor. And lodged in…

A Present Such as This (Part One, Here) I used to think the looking back would bring about the looking forward, would be it’s own reward, a thing to hold on to forever, and permanent — the having done, the having sung, the having been. but even using the most…

it is unbecoming to surrender your’n self to a Bald Man who wants to take your’n ball only to throw it forth and yon

(Originally written for the introduction to the 12.19.2020 Weekly Atticus Newsletter sent each Saturday from Atticus Review.) `This will be the final Weekly Atticus of 2020. After today, we will take a three-week break and will return to our regular publishing schedule on January 11th, 2021. …

we are together, and ones who found fire together, chins held high together —

we are lucky, Runt, to have been alive during the American blip to have taken a piss in this post-Cambrian lava drip

(A Plea to Facebook Friends) Last month, I read a post from a FB friend Jason which I thought was a powerful personal statement about this moment in US history from the perspective of a Jewish American. His post brings up certain things I’d been thinking about and trying to…

do the daily doing of things in spite of the daily diversion and distraction.