There’s a deep hush now, on my exit.All that’s left is the faint raspingof trombone slides and music stands,the rustling of a breathless orchestra under our feetThe house lights dim to twilightand the velvet curtain skims the stagewhile stage-hands dressed in shadowssilently dismantle the scene.I am winded in the wings.The buzzing inside my head is … Continue reading Paris, 1867
Shhf-shhf-shhf... polyester coats rub against armrests and lights dim as speakers surge-- a signal to be quiet. But cellophane crackles like static and a greedy palm fills with hard-shelled candied noisemakers readily popped and crunched between teeth. Salted, greasy fingers rummage in waxed bags before giving the kernels a good toss-- shick shick-- to find that perfect puffed piece. A rasping, lisping … Continue reading April 9 : A Not-So-Quiet Place
Typewriter Moon 