Monthly Archives: October 2016

A bad ear

Happy Halloween from pinklightsabre.com, and thanks for reading! Thanks to Kevin Brennan at WHAT THE HELL and Indie-Scribable for the mask inspiration. Bill This post provisionally titled, “The Very Strange Way In Which Life Leads You Down A Corridor To … Continue reading

Posted in humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 19 Comments

A bath one Saturday night

I hadn’t taken a bath in more than a year, never time for a bath, always something else but when you look at the bath when you’re buying the house, the bath seems like such a good idea and it was … Continue reading

Posted in musings, poetry | Tagged , , , | 17 Comments

That last fall in Arbroath

This time last year we were getting ready to leave Arbroath, Scotland for Halloween in Inverness, at the mouth of the Loch Ness, with much anxiety from the kids on what that would mean for our trick-or-treating plans. We had … Continue reading

Posted in poetry, travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 22 Comments

On the dead

Every other Saturday the gardeners come, but I will never know all their names. They are in the back now blowing out leaves, tearing out the dead, raking up beds, making it all go away— But the next morning the … Continue reading

Posted in death, poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | 19 Comments

The Green Study’s “Positively Happy Nice Story” Contest: Honorable Mention

Originally posted on The Green Study:
An Honorable Mention goes to Bill over at pinklightsabre. His essay “The Expectations of Joy” reminds us to recognize joy in the moment it happens, because it can so often be fleeting. He was…

Posted in writing | 5 Comments

Carson Street, revisited

This post continues one I started two years ago, about the time I lived in Pittsburgh, featured on Freshly Pressed. Bingo Quixote was his stage moniker but his real name was Bob, Bob Zimmer. Myki said after I left Pittsburgh … Continue reading

Posted in humor, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 14 Comments

My writing partner, Penn State ’88

Dave Kravetz, his eyes through the smoke watching me read his poems, all those papers in his gunny sack, his camo jacket and cigarettes, his bleached hair a frozen wave crashing over one eye, his bad temperament (some story about … Continue reading

Posted in musings, writing | Tagged , , , , | 20 Comments