Riding Metro North. With Curious Dog.


5:40 am train.
Metro North south to Grand Central.
Need to buy a ticket.
I look down the long platform. Four minutes to scheduled arrival. Gotta go.

He’s 25 yards up.
His right foot is lame. His gait is slow. Handicapped.
I close in on him.
He’s in his late teens.
Baseball cap.
Backpack slung over his right shoulder.

He stops and turns to stare at the billboard.
His chest is rising up and down – giggling.
It’s an ad for a Broadway play based on the 2003 best selling novel “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time.
I remember the book. And smile.
I take one last look as I pass him. His head leans on his right shoulder as he takes in the poster, playing back chapter by chapter.

I buy my ticket. The train approaches and I look for him. He’s the last to get on, the conductor urges him in. [Read more…]

Riding Metro North. In the Groove.

Portrait of artist Goran Kosanovic holding his painting on foil by Dragan Todorović

5:57 am train.
Metro North south to Grand Central.
New day. Another Monday.
A slow pan over the prior week, and weekend.
Work. Read. Eat. Toilet. Sleep. (Some). Do over.
And, now, same track, same rails, same destination.
And I sit basking in It.

It’s a Mid Term self evaluation.
The Grade: Content.
Work. Read. Eat. Toilet. Sleep (Some). Do Over.
And content with that.
I shift in my seat, close my eyes and contemplate that.

And then,
Here it comes: [Read more…]

I don’t know. I passed through it once, but I’ve never really been there.


Important to stick with this short film until the finish…


onism – n. the frustration of being stuck in just one body, that inhabits only one place at a time, which is like standing in front of the departures screen at an airport, flickering over with strange place names like other people’s passwords, each representing one more thing you’ll never get to see before you die-and all because, as the arrow on the map helpfully points out, you are here.

Full Transcript below…
[Read more…]

Is that a path or a rut?

photograph,sand,dune,desert,path,solitude,

“What we don’t know chains us, leaves us sitting in the valley with a stupid smile. We discover our ignorance as we go. After a lifetime, if we’ve been attentive, we should fall to our knees before the vastness, the ungraspable minutiae of our world. We should suspect that it constitutes our God. And we so-called experts of this or that, could we have done more than play our one chord? Wisdom is to know, at best, that we make only a little good noise, a few small dents. It’s why the wise laugh a lot, why the laughter of metaphysicians echoes in the spaces they probe. We walk out of our houses into the enormity of our task. What kind of ant is that? Who named the phlox? Is that a path or a rut?”

 ~ Stephen Dunn, Ignorance – Riffs & Reciprocities


Stephen Dunn (born 1939) is an American poet. He won the Pulitzer Prize for his 2001 collection, Different Hours.  He was born in Forest Hills, Queens in New York. Dunn completed his B.A. in English at Hofstra University and his M.A. in creative writing at Syracuse. He has taught at Wichita State, University of Washington, Columbia University, University of Michigan and Princeton University.  Dunn lives in Ocean City New Jersey.


Sources: Quote – whiskeyriver.blogspot.com. Image: Jakupwashere

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