Category: articles

  • A Common Problem With the “I-Me” Thing

    A Common Problem With the “I-Me” Thing

    This writer is not really Johan Sigg so much as it is an entity positioned at a curious angle looking in on a man whom other people call Johan Sigg. “I” am certainly controlling that body called Johan but “I” am not Johan. “I” am not quite sure what “I” mean to say when I…

  • Last Adventure with Ray Mundo

    Last Adventure with Ray Mundo

    On the first day after our schools broke up for the summer, Ray Mundo called for me early in the morning. When I opened my front door, the first thing he said was, “Are we still best friends forever, Queen Isabella?” “Our bond can’t be broken, noble Ray Mundo,” I said.  “What new adventure do…

  • Baseballs and CoVid

    Baseballs and CoVid

    Weston Philips was a collector by nature. He didn’t realize it until today, but it seemed to have been a constant for most of his life.  There was the boyhood coin collection, the football game programs, and then, one that was ongoing, the baseball scorecards, beginning with the Braves against the Phillies in 1971 and…

  • Hunger

    Hunger

    Trapped in the fragments of a dream, he shrugs into a jacket, meanders into the parking lot behind his condo, sleep-sentience like tingling fingers keeping him awake. An ochre moon slides across the night,   gilding a mountain lion on the slope before him, head turning as she combs the air for scent. For food,…

  • The Theological Imperative at Root in the Culture of Black Lives Matter

    The Theological Imperative at Root in the Culture of Black Lives Matter

    Air is a ubiquitous substance. Walking around a house, running through a park, or sitting outside air billows through our lungs without notice or cause. This air, however, has been slowly heating up. Like a lobster before dinner, the soft simmer has become a deadly boil. Coronavirus has choked the lungs of over 13,000 Americans.…

  • Joy

    Joy

    I showed my student a photograph of you, Dad, and asked, “What do you see?” He studied the old black-and-white: you in a well-cut summer suit, hands on your lap, light socks and polished shoes— and said, “I see a man who wants to have fun”— not the dutiful school principal I knew, but hands…

  • Santa Fe

    Santa Fe

    Trembling aspens in the Sangres blush amber, Marking the death of summer yet resplendent and Witness to my sadness.   The cottonwoods a flinty-gold lining the Rio Grande On the road to Taos the air smoke-scented with roasting piñons. I am here but lost somehow.   The winds from the Rockies hum and wail to…

  • Nine-Square Xylophone

    Nine-Square Xylophone

    Instead of an unhinged lunatic you may glimpse a punctured soul-a mere human being like you. — Shannon Love It was 5:30pm on the District Line at South Kensington station in London and thousands of tired bodies loaded themselves onto the Underground. Like tightly packed mackerel in a tin can, we could not wedge another body onto…

  • Nature’s Lasting Lesson

    Nature’s Lasting Lesson

    The Intuition of Interconnection Nature replicates itself. Branching trees mirror tributaries in river networks, which reflect veering veins beneath our skin or forked lightning bolts under humid heat. The golden ratio measures the symmetry of pinecones, seashells, the human face, and hurricanes with the atmospheric force of circular replication. Our eyes, our most vulnerable portals,…

  • Dens of our Grandfathers

    Dens of our Grandfathers

    Holy colors — deep autumn orange and yellows and reds. I can imagine strapping a crown of twigs to my head, and a mask for my face, and dancing the round dances through fields pregnant with corn and soybeans, until I collapse roadside in spent, orgasmic satiation. A dance of submission, of humble, beseeching desperation…

  • John F. Kennedy’s Vision Revisited

    John F. Kennedy’s Vision Revisited

    Fifty-seven years ago, as a college freshmen, I was standing with friends outside my history class when we heard that President Kennedy had been assassinated.  Little did I suspect how that historical event would dramatically change my life.  A few years later I would spend a year being shot at in Vietnam.  I would discover…

  • OBIE COASTER DOODLELOO

    OBIE COASTER DOODLELOO

               Each time the voice says, like echoing from a godly tin can: ‘THERE is a TRAIN APPROACHING the LOCAL track’, I feel the urge to jump. I have lived in NYC for five months and have never done it, but I still leap back from the line, yellow and bumpy like candy buttons, just…