Little Epiphanies

They wrapped me in cellophane and set me in the middle of the plaza where I waited while the sun and rain eroded me and pigeons defecated on my head. People asked me what was I waiting for. Through the plastic I shouted that I needed someone to release me. Their well-intentioned fingers fumbled and…

From the start, there were mysteries. They were astounded to see the riverbank lined with empty chairs for kilometers and kilometers on end. The chairs on the bank were made of woven willow branches and had sinuous, undulating lines. In many places the jungle had re-taken the chairs, swallowing them under matted vine and fallen…

I arrived in Buenos Aires 32 years ago this week. Then, as now, it was the run up to Spring. The cool air of Winter was cut by warm shoots of light that made walking her streets like pushing through the folds of night and day. Flower sellers hawked little bouquets of waxy-petaled jasmine from…

On a street in the neighborhood the other day, a car appeared without wheels, without engine, without windows, without seats. A mere car carcass. Someone had bothered to cart it there but its utility – beyond wishful thinking – was hard to see. You had to be really desperate or really imaginative to find beauty…

She was a beautiful child born the day the river Shannon overflowed A body of water that could not be contained was her name Her beauty like Venus was more poignant for a missing wing […]

She skips down the alley willy-nilly, dodging potholes and puddles. Her footsteps echo between the concrete walls and rolling metal security shutters. In the circle of light cast by a streetlamp, she leaps suddenly into the air and twirls, arms joyously flailing. Her chin is raised up and she smiles to the Gods who are…