My Heroes

I volunteer in the park down the street.  All my dreams are gone, but I’m still holding on.  I’m the guy with the Pinche Trump button pinned to his hat.  It’s my glowworm warming Mexican smiles.  Dr. Dave is often there in the morning, twisting his body like Harry Houdini.  We hardly ever speak.  I […]

Tiny Steel Rooms

I open the door.  I must get this right. Last week I came down with a fever.  In the beginning it was only 102 degrees or so, nothing approaching my record.  Still, I was sweating heavily.  The sheets wet.  The room muggy.  In the distance rain threatened, but so far over my house, nothing. I […]

Dying on a Train

The trains are a trap.  Each one filled with Jews and Mexicans and Vietnamese as if someone has lured the metal and fire to the tracks.  It’s not a crime, it’s all been approved by judges with rotten teeth.  Notice how the yellow of the eyes and the foreheads are pulled by indifference and technology.  […]

This Beloved Earth

When I was younger, nature was something I took for granted.  It was eternal in rain and green grass and the fox’s scream.  My great-grandparents owned a place called Bull’s Creek Ranch.  It sat on both sides of the river and was about 4,000 acres.  Over the years my grandfather sold off much of the […]

Selling My Books on the Back of My Life

I’d never been to the Chapel of Jimmy Ray, but I closed my eyes and when I opened them, there I was, in somebody else’s dream.  I liked it and then I heard the voice of Dr. Dave.  “Hey motherfucker, I know you don’t care, but why not write something people in this town can […]

The Demented Woman

I love to eat rice and beans, it makes me feel like a worker in the fields, the ones with the straw hats and sandals.  They bend over with account books pressing down upon their backs.  History can be oppressive and ugly.  Broken bones and scars are the story of slavery and servitude and the […]