On:

First of all, Gina was not my cat. She was Melba’s, my landlady. She waited a month after her other cat, Chester had died. He was 15.Melba was 85 at the time. I was her tenant. We met at a senior center. I once mentioned needing a new place toContinue Reading

On:

Chapter 1: Concrete Poems on the theft of Euterpe’s Elixir The gods whispered inspiration through gilded corridors,and the students drank deeply of creation’s endless well.But one among them—Professor Moros—grew restless.He saw not a gift but a shackle,not a blessing but a barrier. Why should creativity bow to unseen hands?Why mustContinue Reading