The Bishop Johnson’s Diary, Part One

  Another installment in the on-going saga of Assumption Street. The Bishop Johnson’s Diary, Part One Telephone ringing, so answer it and press the black and cold Bakelite against your hot-blooded ear. “Yes?” The Bishop Johnson answers, but I am The Bishop Johnson’s diary, so I am in his pocket and hear it all. I... Continue Reading →

A note from Sweety Bonita

Land of Humans, S.V.P. Who am the birth in your backyard That you’ve come a-poem Infinite births seeded Are on hold Your starry hands out in the sky Hide a heart ready to reheat Not enough for each other To look mobilized, to Hide behind words Reflect common goals. Is there no Love where Inside... Continue Reading →

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign Sign, sign, everywhere a sign Blockin' out the scenery, breakin' my mind Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign? —Five Man Electrical Band The following is a loose translation of an article in today’s L’Independent, our local newspaper—along with some personal commentary. We are passing this along... Continue Reading →

Manifesto for a Saturday

Manifesto for a Saturday Because, believe me! The secret to spreading more fruits And the greater enjoyment of existence Is to live dangerously! What comfort is found Being able to control yourself To keep the standstill consciousness Acquired by you doing What is usual, traditional and sanctified? Wake up pilgrim! This is truly great New... Continue Reading →

Threnody for Tristan Tzara

We had not seen or heard from Sam for a few days, so we walked over to his house to make sure he was okay. It was a beautiful, sunny day. November gold everywhere in the trees, in the vineyards. Off in the distance barking sanglier dogs. The sweet aroma of burning chêne and hêtre.... Continue Reading →

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