Poems, poems, poems, or:

EPIGRAPH: In the end, we'll all become stories.-Margaret Atwood (b. 1939) my every verse my every line my every word: death is only the beginning of countless stories; life, reality's only limitation, albeit a foggy one, but death, a veritable wellspring of stories to tell around the table impart to our children to fool ourselves… Continue reading Poems, poems, poems, or:

How much suffering would I endure?

... my younger brother sensed that our father was not long for this world. He noted my father’s health problems... and the sadness in my father’s eyes. He noted my father’s fatalistic daily behaviors and approach to life...-Me, 'The Skeptic's Kaddish' #6, Sept. 14, 2018 I wrote the above in one of my earliest posts… Continue reading How much suffering would I endure?