identity
mail and poems
There are piles of mail that live on my kitchen counter. It did not used to be like this. It used to be I was organized and uncluttered, but now it seems there are piles everywhere. Piles in the car, piles on the couch, piles on the desk. I don’t know how they arrive; they (…)
At least he’s consistent
They say it is a mark of intelligence to be able to change your mind. Watching the news [which you should not] you’d think the opposite. “Flip flopper!” gets lobbed against political candidates as a sign of non-reliability. A mark against you. When really, it’s the hallmark of a good leader. When you vote for (…)
On The Privilege of Hiding
There are a few places outside of Texas or California where I will agree to eat tacos. Born and raised in Texas, I am a taco snob; so when a new taco joint opened in Jersey City about 10 or so years ago, I agreed to go reluctantly. There were maybe seven of us at dinner (…)