Category: Literature

  • Parting Lips

    Parting Lips

    On the occasion of our last reading at BUMP Cellars, Sonoma: A chapbook introduction. Perhaps I’m looking back with rosé-colored glasses, but in my memory, the genesis of the decades-long poetry series memorialized by this chapbook went something like this: Lisa Summers (as Judy Garland — all puckish moxie), “Hey, let’s put on a show!”…

  • Who’s Afraid of Steppenwolf?

    Who’s Afraid of Steppenwolf?

    Treatise on a Hesse Mess As Steamboat Willie sailed into the public domain, media pundits fanned its fire with hot-takes about what it means for the Mouse House. The professional fretting was so distracting that another work silently slipped into the public domain sans ceremony. Herman Hesse’s Steppenwolf. Technically, Hesse’s quasi-autobiographical love letter to Jungian…

  • So long, and Thanks for All the Fish Wrap

    So long, and Thanks for All the Fish Wrap

    A newspaperman bids adieu to 2023. If you’re not careful, this job will turn you into a cigar-chomping J. Jonah Jameson-style cartoon parody of an editorial professional rather rapidly (except, in my case, with less gray—or, in fact—hair when it comes to my follicular particulars). Every week is a total crap shoot since one never…

  • Sept. 23: Autumn Ode

    Sept. 23: Autumn Ode

    What’s in a name? Autumnal Equinox, to my ears: hot buttered rum then a horse smashing stained glass. Onomatopoeia, synesthesia?  A Mary Poppins duet? The Latin antecedent is “aequinoctium” a.k.a. “equal night”  followed by “sequel night” or Nextnoctium a sleep aid For procrastinators. If we were stamping passports Some say the Autumnal Equinox arrives the Friday…

  • If you’re going to shoot at an elephant…

    If you’re going to shoot at an elephant…

    Gary Larson’s One-panel Master Class in Narrative Of those of us who came of age in the 80s, many are fans of Gary Larson’s The Far Side — the irreverent, nerdy, sadly extinct, single-panel cartoon that anthropomorphized cows (and their tools), brought beehive hair-dos back to national consciousness and gave us “Anatidaephobia: The fear that somewhere, somehow, a…

  • Atomic Angst

    Atomic Angst

    ‘Oppenheimering’ old wounds Nearly two decades ago, I somehow convinced my filmmaking pal, Abe Levy, to accompany me on a drive across the American southwest through the endless ribbon of mirages known as Interstate 40 until we reached the White Sands Missile Base in Socorro, New Mexico. This was not our final destination but an…