It Costs Too Much To Go To The Dentist

They say I’m a bit much— don’t like my liberal teeth. CHOMP!   Porcelain fakes flash— CHOMP!   We’re all Jaws.   I believe in America. I believe we are good. I believe in redemption.   They say I’m a bit much— I’ll vote with my liberal teeth.   CHOMP!   Falling apart pieces of

Children Separated

  Children separated, howling. Maybe we should call the ASPCA.   (image: The Cut)

Memorial Day: Not About Hot Dogs

To all of you who do not know the history–the reason for Memorial Day, I’m taking you to school. Leave your Bud beer, shitty potato salad, and platter of grilled meats at the table. Memorial Day honors men and women who died while serving in the U.S. military. This holiday originated in the years following the

The June Bugs are smacking against the window screen, and Melvin doesn’t mind. Cats of a certain age aren’t bothered; Melvin just keeps on sleeping with his nose pressed against the screen, happy for the warm spring air. He’s an indoor kitty—because I love him too much. Growing up, we had cats that were allowed

A Real Writer Bleeds

I’m no good a lot of times, because I’m human, cutting my own path. I often wonder how I can make my words more visible; how I can do better to widely inspire. I’m assaulted by generics daily, and I feel sorry for those who follow easy lines built upon clichés—I’m offended for every writer

Parkland: commentary from no one of consequence(?)

“An armed society is a polite society. Manners are good when one may have to back up his acts with his life.”—Robert Heinlein Are we not an armed society? I suppose not heavily enough, being that schools are gun-free zones. I find it comical and infuriating both at once that in America we “teach” that

We Cannot Look Away: Not another 17, not another One

Just another day just another town bullet perforated backpacks spilling loose-leaf lined paper, textbooks onto blood stained sidewalks helicopters hovering to give us the birds eye view I tried to avert my eyes out of respect for the dead the injured but I could not look away Christine Ray Even though I should Because I

See Ya’ll in Hell

Matthew 7:2 (King James) For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. I’m not religious, and I don’t fear a god, but I feel like I’ve got a pretty good handle on how people should treat one another. But I

My Last Defense

Marcia was sixteen years old when she was disfellowshipped—the resultant of a rape accusation. The Kingdom Hall doesn’t fuck around, you see. The Brother in question was a husband and father; Marcia was the babysitter. Even though her father wanted to notify the police, and press legal charges against the sick fuck who’d violated his

Illusions of a Happy New Year

I liken New Year’s Day to Lent, in that both elicit fleeting reflection and interim amendments. Jesus, fuck. Cynical much?  Yes. No, I’m a (goddamned writer) pragmatic idealist. When I was a practicing Catholic (married to my daughter’s father), Lent was the vilest time of year for me because I’d have to surrender something meaningful