Latest work
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Sogni d’oro
Read more: Sogni d’oroWhat dreams may come… In a dream, I kissed a woman. Not once or twice or as part of a seduction but as a natural and needed feature of life, my life. It began on a balcony and continued under something like an archway along a very dark street lined…
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Fratello
Read more: FratelloLife comes, brightens, glows, dims, and finally vanishes — the most natural of sequences. My brother died on September 16 at the age of 89, and I will miss him terribly. Despite the significant age gap – he was the son of my father’s second wife – we had developed…
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Dog days
Read more: Dog daysThe summer wasteland known as Rome. These are the dog days of Rome’s traditionally scalding summers. It is hotter than July because it’s one step further into purgatory than that preamble month. Dogs are few, cars fewer, and humans, though present, seem more like yammering offspring or their various communication…
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The hot breasts of yesteryear
Read more: The hot breasts of yesteryearHot teats? Not quite…. Here was the problem, I explained to the technician some forty years ago. My Rome apartment, a delight in every other respect, had the defect of high ceilings. This was the curse of some top floor apartments. As a result, it was humidly cold in winter,…
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Wiring up the plot
Read more: Wiring up the plotFrom the Italian perspective, someone or something mysterious (the “Illuminati?”) is forever messing with the world’s lighting. My favorite COVID conspiracy theory comes from my electrician, Carlo, who was here the other day patching up some rogue wires. Italy lives for such theories and even has a word, dietrismo, which hints…
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Of knives and fire
Read more: Of knives and fireSome memories seem not to belong to one’s own life, but rather as details from a youth spent on some hospitable planet of another galaxy. The traveling knife-sharpener falls into that category. This was the time of year (late spring) that he’d announce his arrival underneath the building I lived…
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