26 February 2008

xmas eve

you asked me did i do you any good yes i said if it weren't for you i would still be driving for a living no glamour job i said but it's better than driving i'm making decent money but that was not the question not the real question not really you really meant to ask me do you love me do you know me do you know that i'm sick that i will die soon will you miss me will you remember me do you know do you care do you understand what i've been telling you for years one symptom after another no i did not know i did not understand and i don't understand why i did not hear you so someone else who never met you but remembered that i mentioned you he phoned me xmas eve to tell me that your death notice was in the paper so i've thought about one phone conversation after another and i can't figure out why i did not hear you why didn't you tell me why didn't you say so in plain words you know how clueless i am i phoned paul he was stunned he did not understand either your funeral was a nightmare he said i asked him to send me a picture of you because i had nothing to remember you by but he never did i'm not surprised he was in a daze he probably didn't know who i was though he said he did

23 February 2008

19 February 2008


There will never be a theory of everything, because we'll never know that we've seen everything.

16 February 2008

What the Angels heard

Your Tears are not enough for Me.
Regret will not erase the Crime
of shaking Apples from the Tree,
and dropping Mankind into Time.

12 February 2008


We are office workers, waiting at the bus stop in the morning. We know that the express will arrive, and we know when. But, we gaze into the distance, toward the corner where the bus will appear, as though we are searching the sky for omens.

06 February 2008

The Art of the Possible

It was a dark and stormy night

I got off the streetcar and headed for a donut shop, where I encountered an old acquaintance, who told me that he had just been released from prison. He had served three years for selling cocaine from his suburban house. He took no trouble to hide his activities, although in court he did pretend that comings and goings from the house were those of partygoers and band members. There was enough noise coming from the house to make this explanation plausible, he thought, but it was not plausible to the jury, who convicted him in thirteen and a half minutes.

01 February 2008


Tram stop

Excuse me, sir.
He is young. Long, blond hair. Smiling, uncertain. Slight accent. Dutch, I think, maybe German. Straddling a bicycle.
Is it permitted to take bicycles on the tram?
I've never seen one on a tram.
And you are on the tram nearly everyday?
Nearly. Where are you going?
You don´t want to cycle there in the rain, I imagine.
I want to tell him about the buses which carry bicycles, but he pedals away before I can speak. I cannot avoid thinking that I have misled him, disappointed him, wrecked a simple communication that could have helped him. I often feel this way in conversation, no matter what the subject.