Tagged: Michael Konik

Iconoclasts

On billboards all around Los Angeles, mysterious outsiders, people who refused to conform to society’s rigid standards of propriety, are finally getting the recognition and respect they deserve. We’ve learned that creative mavericks like Renee Zellwegger, Brian Grazer, and Sumner Redstone (CEO of Viacom) are mold-breaking, rubric-smashing, trail-blazing innovators who go it their own way,...

On the Death of a Young Woman

Yesterday news came that a young woman we had known briefly, call her Miss C, had died after several years of intermittently successful treatments for various cancers. She was 30. For as long as we were acquainted with her — only the last two years of her life — she was either suffering from her illness...

Poem: The Latest

Off in mad pursuit of the hottest, the latest, the mostest — and we say that not ironically at all because As anyone who knows anything about culture — or Culture, capitalized ironically, like a Tom Wolfe neologism — knows that Getting more If not all Is the point of all this scurrying. Much like...

’tis Autumn

The trees, they are tired. They’ve borne too much fruit — so says the song. In Southern California, Autumn is different than, say Wisconsin, where October and November bring with them a massive denuding of foliage, turning magisterial maples into plaintive skeletons. The leaves drop, everywhere, covering driveways and lawns, and the mood is generally...

Poem: Friends

Our surrogate family congregated in the church of our living room, Joining together to give praise and feel joy, with hardly a thought given to the consequences of enjoying sensual pleasures of the tongue and ear and eye. We smiled and laughed and nodded, Creating an affirmation — A conviction really — That the colors...

Poem: Pop

Palindrome. Popular, as in pop music, that perfectly pleasant melange of reiterated innocuousness informing our youthful rebellion Even as we have children of our own, little versions of ourselves who Can’t stand our old stupid music and regressive ways. The sound a balloon makes when pin is applied to its skin, flexing Giving bending Until...

Poem: High

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...

Poem: Evensong

Our father, who art in heaven And whose presence may be felt Most acutely In the ringing naves yearning for the sky Like ambitious tomato vines, Hear our song. We praise you, sir, for giving us everything: Life (and the sorrowful joys and disappointments and triumphs it brings); And love (and the ecstatic devastation it...

A Backyard Report, With No Deeper Meaning Intended

The flock of goldfinches — about 20 of them — that lives in my backyard, coexisting with house finches, sparrows, wrens, jays, and the occasional black phoebe and grosbeak, serve as an early warning system. Lately, at least once a day, these energetic little yellow peckers disappear into the ficus trees, or into a neighbor’s...

Poem: Homonym

Depending on where you put the stress Early or late Or, when feeling critical, in the middle, The meaning changes.   First you can’t move as you wish. Then it’s not right.   Invalid.