When I was young, I thought there must be something wrong with me. I wondered if I wasn’t mentally ill as my parents suspected. Only later would I realize that I simply didn’t make enough money, which pushed me into bad decisions that I interpreted as some personal failing.
Finding Bukowski
"What is hell? I maintain that it is the suffering of being unable to love." Fyodor Dostoevsky I first encountered Charles Bukowski in a used bookstore quite by accident while browsing the stacks for William S. Burroughs. Notes of a Dirty Old Man? The title itself was enough to make me laugh. I paid the … Continue reading Finding Bukowski
A Riverine Christmas
I drink coffee while everyone else is asleep. Alone in an armchair, I stare at the yellow rectangle of light coming from the kitchen. The furnace groans and floorboards creak. The house is like an old man farting. Five more years and it will turn one hundred. I think of the other families that have … Continue reading A Riverine Christmas
Cawing into the Abyss
Crows assemble at this U of M tower like children around a birthday cake, hoping for the killing to begin so they can have lunch. You are fools they say, everyone is black until you pick our feathers. Each December they fill the sky along the river in flocks too numerous to count. Such gatherings … Continue reading Cawing into the Abyss
Homer Saves Springfield
The man had trouble keeping up with his wife, grimacing as he hobbled behind her. The two boys ran far ahead of the both of them like unleashed puppies. The river flowed dark and cold to their right. It would be frozen soon and this realization made him as bleak in his thoughts as the … Continue reading Homer Saves Springfield
The Last Third
With November upon us and the skyline a lattice of sticks, I think of The First Third--the posthumously published memoir by Neal Cassady. Cassady was Jack Kerouac’s muse, the Dean Moriarty of his famous novel, On the Road. I read both those books when I was about twenty. Kerouac admired Cassady for his frenetic energy … Continue reading The Last Third
Ashes of American Flags
“I would like to salute The ashes of American flags And all the fallen leaves Filling up shopping bags” Wilco lyrics by Jeff Tweedy and Jay Bennett My son’s chain keeps falling off his bike so, like the dutiful father I am, I drop it off at the Hub repair shop. I feel anxious because … Continue reading Ashes of American Flags
Man on the Moon: an End of Days Soundtrack
“That planet called “normal” is small and blue in the distance, close enough to see but too far away to touch.” Read more from “Man on the Moon” at https://atticusreview.org/man-on-the-moon-an-end-of-days-soundtrack/ https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dLxpNiF0YKs
Strange Days
As a bored, pimple-faced high schooler, I read a science-fiction story about a character who gets trapped on the wrong side of the mirror. Duped by his reflection, he lives in a world not quite normal—a dimmer alternate universe populated by imposters he does not love. I could not tell you the name of the … Continue reading Strange Days
Down by the River
When I got home from work, the boy told me he wanted to go fishing. I paused before answering out of weariness. What I really needed was a cold beer and a hot shower. “Let your dad rest and get settled,” my wife said in support. “I’ll never say no to that,” I said. “We … Continue reading Down by the River
