Times Square Station, a Wednesday in time, 8:30 AM So sad, no one naps on the subways nowadays. cc: Chagall 2022
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I wish I had underlined all the great ideas I'd encountered in all the books I read over the years cc: Chagall 2022
I'd like to go on record, state today that I am not as chubby as these two shirts make it appear, and even if I was, like my Mom used to say She's not too fat to fly cc: Chagall 2022
I asked the poinsettia do you like it here, do you want to live here all year round on that ledge surrounded by the resurrected orchids? cc: Chagall 2022
The year she mentioned was so long ago that when she asked how old I'd been then, it was easier to count up from my birth date, but not so young that I had to count backwards cc: Chagall 2022
After having taken multiple handfuls, I am now skilled in shaking the green container that holds the golden candy caramel popcorn, such that the kernels fluff-up in volume, covering my tracks cc: Chagall 2022
dear dan fogelberg my old singing friend! oh, how I miss you and the times she and I spent harmonizing your songs, you went from young with dancing shoes to dead and gone, so quickly, at least in my mind was it like that for you as well? Love when you can Cry when you have to Be who you must That's a part of the plan you sang, promised that one day we'd all understand and then suddenly you got old at least in my mind was it like that for you as well... or did we all get old? and then you passed off to the Netherlands away to captured angels danny, we've all since gotten older with love, triplet brother (different mother) cc: Chagall 2022
I love that your room still smells of you, as the attic did of that summer I can't quite discern what it is, whether your hair, a lotion, or simply you, it pervades the air on these warmer days, though it's been years I close my eyes and ride the time, tide will take me back again, the well-worn aroma helps me push to birth your memory Once born, I shall never open my eyes cc: Chagall 2022
The other day I came across an old video - VCR type - I made many years ago, my parents and my children hovering over a Papier-mâché volcano, as they take turns pouring vinegar into its crater to make baking soda and dish-soap foam over, eruptions of laughter from the four of them, young and old, at Vesuvius bubbling away on the porch table It occurs to me though, today, that the area caught on film where this is all taking place - the porch - was not constructed until after my Dad passed away, with money he had left me cc: Chagall 2022
The more lights I turn off, the less sad the room is cc: Chagall 2022
Alphabet City 