midnight train rides, honey wine, africans and my bastard nose

the last time i drank an entire bottle of honey wine was on the train between verona and florence. i was headed back to the villa from visiting my uncle and his family. after a weekend away i wasn’t quite sure what felt more like home, my uncle’s off base apartment or the villa with…

women hunt, men gather?

at what point did a Random Man outweigh a Good Woman   women selling themselves so short they are willing to accept crumbs while claiming to be worth diamonds   work a full time job manage a household singlehandedly with only a spot here and there raise a wo/man these credentials sudden liabilities   women…

not since the extermination of the Jews by the nazis

i was folding laundry the day rwanda invaded my living room the smell of bleached white boxers warm from the dryer fills the air on screen africans murdering africans murdering africans caught in a daze my own fantasy land playing house yet not grown in the background he stood laughing on the phone rwanda i say that’s nowhere the reply…