Phil Vassallo

I am a New Jerseyan by way of The Bronx and of Maltese ancestry. I work as a corporate communication consultant, primarily developing and delivering writing and presentation skills programs, and I was a professor of writing in several colleges. I hold a B.A. in English from Baruch College, an M.S. in reading education from Lehman College, and a doctorate in educational theory from Rutgers University. I have published over 100 poems in various print journals and in websites, including Red Booth Review, Red River Review, Rustlings of the Wind, Cyber Oasis, Catalyzer, Snakeskin, Wilmington Blues, Atomic Petals, still, Twelfth Planet, Electric Acorn, Poetry Webring, Some Words, Lucid Moon, Spoken War, Librium Implant, Artistic Wasteland, Open Sewer, and Decathlon2000. I have also published over 100 articles as a freelance journalist and essayist. My column on education issues, “The Learning Class,” has been published in various newspapers and magazines across the nation and on EducationNews.org. In addition, I write a column on writing issues, “Words on the Line,” which appears in etc., the journal of the International Society for General Semantics. Seven of my plays have been produced Off-Off Broadway. I was a recipient of a New Jersey State Council on the Arts playwriting fellowship, and a finalist in three national playwriting competitions. My play “The Spelling Bee” was published by Samuel French. E-mail: vassallo@aol.com Links: www.PhilVassallo.com

An Ass that Sees Pants…

"Any man of sense would remember that the eyes are doubly confused from two different causes, both in passing from light to darkness and from darkness to light; and believing that the same things happen with regard to the soul also, whenever he sees a soul confused and unable to discern anything he would not

A Woman is Like a Cow

Just before I reached puberty, my Maltese father told me, “A woman is like a cow, always with one eye opened and one eye closed.” And I wondered if he’d meant only my mother. Just before my wedding day, my father told me what he’d meant: “A woman always pretends she can’t see anything, but

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