Some days I put the people in the… bend their legs at the knees, if they come with that feature, and fix them into the tiny wooden… All afternoon they face one anothe…

Baudelaire considers you his brother, and Fielding calls out to you every few paragraphs as if to make sure you have not closed the book, and now I am summoning you up again, attentive...

Sometimes the notes are ferocious, skirmishes against the author raging along the borders of every… in tiny black script. If I could just get my hands on y…

All afternoon I have been struggling to communicate in Italian with Roberto and Giuseppe, who have begun to resemble the two male characters in my Italian for Beginners, the ones who ar...

It could be the name of a prehisto… that roamed the Paleozoic earth, r… on its hind legs to show off its l… or some lover in a myth who is met… It means treasury, but it is just…

I wait for the holiday crowd to cl… before stepping onto the first wav… Soon I am walking across the Atla… thinking about Spain, checking for whales, waterspouts.

There are many that I miss having sent my last one out a car… sparking along the road one night,… The heralded one, of course: after sex, the two glowing tips

Smokey the Bear heads into the autumn woods with a red can of gasoline and a box of wooden matches. His ranger’s hat is cocked

I have never been fishing on the… or on any river for that matter to be perfectly honest. Not in July or any month have I had the pleasure—if it is a…

And I start wondering how they ca… If it was congenital, they could b… and I think of the poor mother brooding over her sightless young… Or was it a common accident, all t…

In most self-portraits it is the f… Cezanne is a pair of eyes swimming… Van Gogh stares out of a halo of… Rembrant looks relieved as if he w… from painting The Blinding of Sam…

Today I pass the time reading a favorite haiku, saying the few words over and over… It feels like eating the same small, perfect grape

The first thing I heard this morn… was a soft, insistent rustle, the rapid flapping of wings against glass as it turned out, a small bird rioting

The other day as I was ricochetin… off the blue walls of this room bouncing from typewriter to piano from bookshelf to an envelope lyin… I found myself in the 'L’ section…

It seems these poets have nothing up their ample sleeves they turn over so many cards so ea… telling us before the first line whether it is wet or dry,