Dear Son–Charlie, We could not even see you at first. You were curled up in the back of the cage, behind the other really cute cat that everyone wanted. After he was pulled out, your first human Mom and I peered in, seeing you looking so helpless, eyesight obscured by redness. You looked so sick….
Hair’s on fire Heart’s beating outta my chest I’m a fucking pack of TNT ready to explode Gunpowder from the grenade in hand burns flesh Restful sleep interrupted by fitful nightmares Fists punching me, hard Lashing in… …lashing out Am I still bleeding? Or, am I healing ? This is All so Fucked I’m sacred….
I never committed my Papa’s birthday to memory. January 27th, 2009 was the date my mom’s father passed on. We have missed this remarkable man ever since. Last week I received a mysterious phone call. A man with gentle Southern drawl told me: “I am doing well. Everything is okay.” I put the phone down….
My boy Charlie was right— Not this Charlie… these are the best of times and worst of times. Yes, as many of you all know, I had an amazing expedition to and through Asia this summer. As many of you may not know, I even got to embrace and kiss beautiful women in Thailand &…
8:15 a.m. August 6th, 1945. Hiroshima, Japan NEVER AGAIN. Hiroshima transforms, but always remembers. Always.