There’s a video on the Internet that proports to give lessons on playing the trumpet. It features Steve Madaio. And while I’m not particularly interested in learning a musical instrument. I am interested Steve Madaio. You see, I knew Steve a long time ago. We went to high school together. He was one of myContinue reading “Steve Madaio”
All the magnolia trees have lost their elfin charm. The garden is as rough and silent as their bare branching arms. They look like ragamuffin soldiers fighting upside down, their hair scouring the earth. Winter can be a muguffin in a garden (see Alfred Hitchcock). It can scare the bejesus out of all the gardenContinue reading “The Garden in Winter”
The Lord Squire among the bags and books and book bags beckons and bows. The trees fill with threes— three birds, three bees, three bones, everything in threes— except for the scones. And they come once a fortnight— so stale and dry and too hard to eat— it is as if they were poems.
Explain this to me. Hamlet has been here for two months now, shuffling around in the gloomy recesses of Elsinore—dreaming of a giant wave in a sea of troubles—and now, all he wants to do is get the swords out and duel in the surf. It seems he’s been taking lessons— The better to smiteContinue reading “Silent Tsunami”
This is the longest piece I ever wrote. I published it on extrasimile in four parts. it also appeared (and still appears, though it difficult to find) on00 arduity.com. You will be forgiven if you don’t read it, but it is something of f an Ars Poetica for me. Donald HallContinue reading “Wallace Stevens: Adorning the Rock”