Debajo de las tres versiones (English, español y français) de este breve poema, vea, por favor, las palabras de Sainte Thérèse de Lisieux (Francia), que en español se llama Santa Teresita. Y déjame decirte, también, que lejos de mi casa,… Read More ›
I had come to see my retinal specialist. The place gets more like a factory with every passing what? Quarterly earnings report? In between the generally unnecessary but billable examinations with new machines They had me wait on a chair… Read More ›
Dedicated to my mother, Lyle Warner, and to an up-and-coming young artist: Adelaine Muth Along the side of the road I found a silver goblet Which had been used as an ashtray. The local museum was holding… Read More ›
Our god is a consuming fire Hebrews 12:29 When summer came, he left the city Afraid of the heat and pollution Afraid of the sun He found himself in a hospital In a ward with no air-conditioning… Read More ›
Song for more than one voice In Paris I ride in an old elevator. It has no memory. We cannot argue. A middle-aged woman sits naked on a bed. A man, equally naked, stands facing her. “Do you want… Read More ›
One looks for a partner but can only be found by love. Since empirical research employs many more people than more intellectual pursuits, can it be wrong? We are on pace to die of canned laughter. The dog that I… Read More ›
Reblogged from Zeteo Out of the hundred million people living in Soviet Russia, we should be able get 90 million behind us. The others, there’s no talking with them, they have to be annihilated. — Bolshevik leader Grigory Zinoviev, September… Read More ›
