When the night is good
So good that the inexorable march toward decrepitude pauses freezes stops
Time hitting an invisible wall of rightness —
Well, then, we must sing and dance and laugh and love
Certain that if life can be this fine
It surely must go on forever, never stopping, always flying, refusing to
Come down.
The nice lady pulled her full-size luxury SUV to a stop at the curb in front of our home and set the hand brake. It looked like she was parking, but she didn’t turn off the car’s engine, and she didn’t get out. Instead, the nice lady remained inside the leather-trimmed cabin, doing something on her phone. I was in the garden, picking tomatoes, figuring she’d shut everything down (or move on) soon. But after five…
Writer, poet, artist, improviser, lyricist, former television personality, and generally decent person.
We recently encountered the 1981 anthology “The Mind’s I,” by Douglas Hofstadter and Daniel Dennett, and we’re pretty sure our brain will never be quite the same. The collection contains “fantasies and reflections on self and soul” expressed in essays, stories and one-act plays that work as literary thought experiments meant to refine (define?) our understanding...
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