Category Archives: Uncategorized

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January 11 – 15

An afternoon to evening walk. January 12. Sunset. South Mountain. January 13 When it started to snow a few days ago, it seemed to me that the snow had finally brought the birds to the bird feeder. For many days it was cold and there […]

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January Notes: 1 – 10

January 1, 2017 The first day begins to end. If you are Pennsylvania Dutch and it’s New Year’s Day, you eat mashed potatoes, pork and sauerkraut. Here it is 2017 and Dad has made it to another year. Two weeks ago not too many were […]

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Fucking

… for Janis A bedroom. North Philadelphia. 1972 Ouvrez-moi cette porte où je frappe en pleurant. Open this door where I knock weeping. … I I WILL COME TO YOU WITH A CANDLE BURNING light a stick of incense comb and braid your hair with […]

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December 30 & 31: Taking a Walk in the Woods

… December 30, 2016 I’m going to take a walk although it’s cold. Have soothed my dry itching skin with Crisco and off I go. Can you see by the ripples on the pond where it isn’t frozen that the wind is visible? South Mountain. […]

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December 18th at Midnight

… My father’s high school portrait (he went off to war shortly after it was taken) and his grandparent’s wedding portrait all very dusty on the mantle; the glass fruit was my mother’s. My great grandfather looks like my uncle George and my great grandmother […]

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Revenge of the Rejected Ones

… By way of explanation before you read: Revenge of the Rejected Ones is part of Fucking, a poem I wrote for performance in the 1970s that I pretty much finished in 1976 and continued to perform in both Philadelphia and New York into the […]

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What all the songs add up to

Greg Masters reads from What All the Songs Add Up To

… I saw that Greg Masters was going to be having a book party for his new book, What All the Songs Add Up To, written from the 1970s to the present, some forty years of poems. What a great title for a book of […]

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Photographs by Rudy Burckhardt from the 1930s

… Rudy Burckhardt was born in Basel, Switzerland in 1914. While going to medical school in London, he discovered photography. He came to live in New York in 1935. “I really became a New Yorker rather than an American,” he later wrote. “There are so […]

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February, South Mountain, Sun and Fog, Remembered, Forgotten

What a difference a day makes even at my father’s pond in the South Mountain, sunny one day, next day full of clouds. The beginning of the month, February 2 and 3. Who remembers those days now?

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Sweet Little Angel

… I performed a song at the Poetry Project with my nephew Daniel. May every day be full of love. Love, love, love, love, love, love, love. … … Sweet Little Angel I got a sweet little angel Sweeter than apple butter I got a […]

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… Had I left sooner or later it would all have been different, but I didn’t and got into two arguments, one in a store and one on the sidewalk about the neighborhood with two freeloaders who do nothing, yet want something for nothing. Today […]