Category: writing

I noticed in this week’s print edition of Pulse that there’s an article about Macworld Expo 2005… written by me! Welcome to any Pulse readers that may have wandered here from there! I need to archive more of my past articles and such here on my site; ok, that’s added to “The List Of Things…

It’s like a regular thing when I tell myself that I have a short attention span — But a bridge can’t have a short attention span; Otherwise it would be a ramp, or just a place for people to stand around. Maybe it’s just having a sense of the overall vision, an almost-glimpse-from-the-corner-of-my-eye disappearing-around-the-corner-shadow-in-fast-motion just-beyond-the-reach-of-my-sideview-mirror-hiding-inside-a-chrome-glare…

Coming around the hill, on the Interstate at the Ridgecut, the city sweeps into view: the trees on the roadside edge are only partly blocking nighttime lights, only partly obscuring the upside-down skyscape of white streetlamps garnished with red and blue from signs and towers and the spray of light from cars in motion. To…

Is this some lingering embarrassment we hide from ourselves? “Without truth, there is no hope.” I mean to say — if anything can be right, then anything is right: and nothing is wrong. And my hopes, my dreams starving, dying, R.I.P. (as if there were peace when anything is true.) I say, if life is…

Icy rain hits the windows of his apartment as I smile and nod, as I sit on a cast-off armchair and listen: “The entire organization of salesmen has been turned upside-down. But I believe I can make a special deal for myself.” A deal, no doubt, that’s pure commission mixed in with blind optimism —…

I’m not the only one Who sees the truth Beneath the skin Of our stated promises and ideals. Perhaps: my task, the skin to unpeel. This issue from my work’s not said in jest, in fun; And I’d rather not be mean, nor ruth- Less in my avoidance of this apparent sin. Still, in a…

Beginning on a Thursday night The rain became sleet, became ice — Later falling as snow.On Friday there was A give-and-take: The gift of weather (A day off from work) And the inevitable tax (The power went out). I remember Saturday, But I don’t much recall What I did: The power had been restored, And…

Trying to look forward Into my uncertain future, What I am feeling Is more or less A sense of gain shadowed by cost. Yet, it “shouldn’t” be so hard: The calendar, binding like a suture Stretched across time (for healing; Adding to the stress), Stems the flow of days lost. I do admit a perspective…

Once again, I’m close to a dilemma. The icebox in my refrigerator is rapidly narrowing and soon–very soon–I will have one large ice cube. Still, it’s really not a surprise; two or three years ago I had the same problem. Defrosting my refrigerator honestly doesn’t frighten me. This task, though supposedly routine, has achieved the…