When I was eight, I did a brief stint in prison. By “prison” I mean a small town in New Jersey. Don’t get me wrong; there were some lovely things about that town. It was the pastoral small town of times gone by, with only two main streets, a lake in the middle, and the kind of safety that permitted […]
I don’t know why, but I wrote my first poem when I was six. It was an ode to female beauty that started, “Her face was the color of peaches and cream, with strawberry juice in between.” Not exactly subtle, huh. Born already of stories about blushing princesses and sleeping beauties that so shape the young lives of women. I […]
My first food was breast milk, and I hope yours was, too: A finer cuisine for an infant just does not exist. Add to that the fact that it is usually served up by a chef with soft arms, an hypnotic heartbeat, and loving eyes, and I feel quite fortunate to have ever feasted at such a deli. In fact, the […]
Actually, I’m not sure that’s true. Maybe the sweetest is the second lick, after the flavor has been recognized by the taste buds. Or it might be the seventh, after the complex intermingling of tastes have seemed to infuse the entire mouth, and the tongue can’t stop itself from reaching for an eighth…
