The Saturday Evening Studio Series
Two Poems
In 1984, I learned words were currency. I could buy things. Things that mattered to a fifteen-year-old boy. A smile. A chance. Respect. A moment of protection in a room...
Two Poems
In 1984, I learned words were currency. I could buy things. Things that mattered to a fifteen-year-old boy. A smile. A chance. Respect. A moment of protection in a room...
Charlie Chaplin and the Night I Wrote My Way Home
Fremont raised me. Niles sharpened me. Summer night, 1989. Sleep would not come, so I drove. Windows down. Fremont rolling past. Streets my body still knew. Stop signs. Quiet houses....
Charlie Chaplin and the Night I Wrote My Way Home
Fremont raised me. Niles sharpened me. Summer night, 1989. Sleep would not come, so I drove. Windows down. Fremont rolling past. Streets my body still knew. Stop signs. Quiet houses....
A Snake In the Cabinet!
I was grounded. Again. Bullard Street was 37 feet away. Front door open. Screen door shut. That was my world. I stood there looking through that mesh at everything that...
A Snake In the Cabinet!
I was grounded. Again. Bullard Street was 37 feet away. Front door open. Screen door shut. That was my world. I stood there looking through that mesh at everything that...
Saturday Morning Comes Fast ...
Saturday morning comes fast when you're twelve and you carry The Argus in your hands. Two things lived in my head. Roll the papers. Deliver them perfect. Bay fog covered...
Saturday Morning Comes Fast ...
Saturday morning comes fast when you're twelve and you carry The Argus in your hands. Two things lived in my head. Roll the papers. Deliver them perfect. Bay fog covered...
Fremont. The Argus Newspaper. Behind the scenes...
Mama walked in and told me fog had rolled in thick. Day starting thirty minutes early. At twelve, thirty minutes hit wrong. I rolled out of bed and followed her...
Fremont. The Argus Newspaper. Behind the scenes...
Mama walked in and told me fog had rolled in thick. Day starting thirty minutes early. At twelve, thirty minutes hit wrong. I rolled out of bed and followed her...
Mrs. Daniels
A Fremont Story of Kindness, Work, and Warm Light At fifteen, life was treating me pretty well. Liked. Busy. A dishwashing job at a local café tucked into Sundale Center....
Mrs. Daniels
A Fremont Story of Kindness, Work, and Warm Light At fifteen, life was treating me pretty well. Liked. Busy. A dishwashing job at a local café tucked into Sundale Center....