selective memories

I have a bum leg. Actually, it’s a bum foot.
A motorcycle accident in  ‘79 banged up my right side pretty good. 1979 was not a year of a lot of doctors or self care for the jodi. It got better, but now and then it still acts up. My foot swells, or I can’t feel [...]

summer in the city

I walked through the new Washington Square Park, expecting to be disappointed, or at least annoyed, but it was lovely. The fountain is working, the landscaping inviting. I spent an hour listening to musicians, watching kids playing in the fountain or with their families, hearing a hundred languages from tourists passing through. The park was packed [...]

that was then: 1979

I open my eyes to a greasy tin ceiling & the smell of oil and gasoline. I’m on the floor, just a thin bare mattress between me and the cold cement. Cogs & gears & metal greasy things I can’t name litter the floor around me. It’s the itching that wakes me. My arms, my legs, [...]