Crow Mother (for Frida Kahlo)
Crow Mother (for Frida Kahlo) They have a memory for faces, my pretty birds. They are believers in vengeance. Forgiveness is not in their DNA. My shiny black sweethearts will eat out the hearts of those who harm them, one day. This is why I love them so. They are like me in their smart […]
Selenites
Selenites Each lunar sunrise they say, as though their world is starting over, “Come, let us reason together,” and off they go, but not too far off. Reclined in craters, they utter syllogisms to each other, love songs made of feldspar. They trace formulae in jagged moon dust with the tips of their tapered fingers. […]
Whatever Happened to Scott Carey?
Whatever Happened to Scott Carey? Scott Carey had it made. He had a good job with an understanding boss. He had a beautiful wife who loved him (of course, there was no other choice for those were the rules of the game for both the genre and the medium in 1957, thank you very much […]
The Dark Side of The Force in Relation to Art
I’m gratified that you asked me to address you today; but if we’re honest, you had little choice. This afternoon your faces, ranged in tactful light, are both my canvas and my paint, my page and words, my score and harmonies (or, more often, dissonances) I intuit. As the work proceeds, my heavy pleasantries will […]
Gaunt
Gaunt As autumn shadows evolve into winter nights, hunger comes sniffing. Gaunt, the gray wolf has grown. With yellow eyes. Her belly snarls a wild music of want, to match the growl in her throat. In the spring she fed well from the hunt. Her teeth left the green grass dappled with red. But summer […]
