Never alone
The universe (which others call the Library) is composed of an indefinite andperhaps infinite number of hexagonal galleries – Jorge Luis Borges, The Library of Babel Another day faded as […]
The universe (which others call the Library) is composed of an indefinite andperhaps infinite number of hexagonal galleries – Jorge Luis Borges, The Library of Babel Another day faded as […]
In absence of the mirrors the aged librarian still can see himself as shadows dancing, as an apparition in his secret catalogue of books most toxic. His exile to the […]
When he called me, just to tell how far it was to fall, how dark was depth beneath the sill how much the voices told him that: “you have nothing […]
It’s a terrible shame having to kneel for nickels and dimes; a pittance to plead for your pennies while greed gives you gold. I hate this, my living by waiting […]
“People can lose their lives in libraries. They ought to be warned.” ― Saul Bellow One September-day a lady waltzed into his inner sanctum of forgotten books; an eyelash-teardrop clinging […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis