The Inner Life and the Social World in the Work of James Baldwin
What unified Baldwin's vision and made him unique were his great intelligence and his great passion; they informed, reflected, and expressed each other.
While You Were Out
While you were out the world exploded, and I, at the time, was home, so I will be gone by the time you return.
Ilan Stavans
"This whole issue of Latino, Hispanic or the sub-categories, Cuban-American or Mexican-American announces or establishes that we are so involved in shaping an identity. Using language as a category is a way to say who we are in front of a mirror. But in the end, words are perishable."
Prostitution Must Be Legalized: A Former Sex Worker’s Opinion
Prostitution must be legalized. If a person feels their best career opportunity is in the sex industry, it should be their right to pursue that line of work. Many well-educated, well-intentioned people have told me that it's in a sex worker's best interest for prostitution to be illegal, because legalizing it condones and legitimizes it. …
Prostitution Must Be Legalized: A Former Sex Worker’s Opinion Read More »
Haiku: “The Summer River…”
The Summer River Although there is a bridge, my horse goes through the water
Groping Marlon Brando’s Face: A Long-Overdue Confession
I can't recall exactly what triggered the incident, but it started like this: I was sitting on a sofa in a dimly lit room...gazing down at the face of a sleeping Marlon Brando...unable to resist the urge to do the unthinkable. Now, let me make one thing perfectly clear—none of what happened that night was …
Groping Marlon Brando’s Face: A Long-Overdue Confession Read More »
Trash and Serious Literature in America: Aristotle Blows the Whistle on Us
Aristotle provided a couple of insights that are useful in understanding certain trends in contemporary American fiction.
Gutter Balls: A Poem
The bottle stops the clock.
CODA: A Poem
The fit seizes me—I drift— tearing sound of shot silk— plosions below. Gray sun changes to pale yellow wash. Milt bops. Duke downshifts. Bessie kneels from midnight to sun in golden chains. Thin hipped, thin lipped, you come trailing your bluest India, weeping to any night switchman, tickling his crotch— Sex, you sing, is just …
Je Ne Sais Quoi: A Poem
To snooze? Two gaunt men--the one I visited yesterday with bones older than mine; the other, today, my age. I wish to make a gift of my fat. I have more than I need. Yes, but the mysterious laws of this planet, do not permit it. If masters there be, in India, or in the …