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While listening to a talk by Jon Ronson last week, I recalled a childhood experience that I recounted in a letter some time ago. Today, I’d like to share Ronson‘s talk, and will be introducing the talk with this excerpt from the letter: … …It was probably in the American equivalent of sixth grade. Our English teacher presented us with a comprehension…
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Here I come to find myself, catch the tide Looking for a peace at the end of the line Sometimes I can’t help myself feel the tide I’m all at sea and so unwise I’m so afraid I’d lose your love as time goes by But courage is a fire and a beacon so bright…
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It’s easy to romanticize a simpler life that one doesn’t indulge continually. A life much like that of some ideal fellow just two blocks away. He is married to a modest wife, raising a family 一 two good-looking children, and sharing the weekends altogether in simple activities like handball, or skipping, or some other appealing randomness. Their lives…
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It’s somewhat disturbing that the first poem I choose to publish publicly is a eulogy, but then again it could have been about cute talking bunnies… how sad will that be? Anyway, this one’s dedicated to lost loved ones and broken friendships. Death cheats, and memories redress Loss is not for the dead, but for the…
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