“I write for myself, to save what’s left of myself.” Charles Bukowski, poet * * * Today I spent the morning on the porch, under the fan, reading poetry and hoping the humidity evaporates. Not much luck. But the poetry is good even though Bukowski and many others are dead. Good poetry lives on. It’s …

Trapped by our very own words. How do we escape? * * * It can happen anywhere, anytime, all you have to do is just show up. It’s the experience of life. You try to be nice, cordial, friendly. Yet, even with caution your words can sometimes entrap you into a dilemma of our own …