Two Years, Fifteen Pieces ~ May 2021 — February 2023 — I’ve been at it since I was fifteen years old, when I took a bus to Washington DC, to join the 100,000 or so to protest the war in Vietnam. Y’see, I didn’t agree with the idea that I should be trained as a soldier and sent to the other…

Metastasized Through The Entire Species — Make Them Think It Is Normal He swung his AK-47 around—in slow motion—the barrel now resting on his shoulder. Without even turning his head around to see where he was shooting—one finger on his ear to buffer the sound, the other on the trigger—he sprayed his load of bullets into…

Restless Horizontal — He lay his head on the pillow, eyes closing to the outlines of the room created by the streetlight through the curtains. And so his ears took over the vigilance. As his body relaxed on the bed he pulled a cool smooth sheet over himself. They had made love. She was…

A Poem —

Visiting the ignorance of the fathers upon the sons (Stop!) — An Introduction — The Basics Foreskin is not a design flaw! Sixty+ percent of the world’s men remain intact. This fact alone should certainly stir some doubts about the claimed “benefits” of this surgical procedure. Finally — the preemptive removal of a healthy body part on every boy— one that…

Discarding The Foolishness of Peace, Love and Understanding — 1967 Okay. So I’ve been an “opponent of war, someone who participates in antiwar demonstrations”—in other words, a peacenik!—since the 1960s. A goddamn long-haired hippie who thought Peace & Love could be considered a valid modus operandi in a world where wars provided so much emotional excitement—including tribal cohesion, a sense…

Avarice In Wonderland — Co-authored with Remington Write. Photos: “Life Underground” art installation by Tom Otterness at the 14th Street/8th Avenue subway station, New York City. Photos by AleXander Hirka. Digressing Up To The Macro It was while my partner Tammy Remington and I were talking about our apartment building’s management companies — their…

Pushing Peace Up The Hill Yet Again — I’m about to take my fourth journey to Washington, D.C. 1965 My first trip was on an 8th grade class trip. I was 13. On the tour of the Treasury I was impressed by skids of huge sheets of uncut paper money. There was of course the Lincoln Memorial and other monuments…

My Breakfast With Zĕna — A leisurely Monday morning breakfast with my friend—writer and philosopher Zĕna Kōan. I was sharing an experience from the night previous. There was this loud bestial male roar from out back. (My apartment faces a back yard and the windows of dozens of neighbors’ apartments.) An orgasm? Nope—as it was…