Nonfiction

  • Jo Jo and Becky Took Ballet

    My father always said he was a betting man and that his first love was gambling. Dice and cards, not sports or cars, not girls. Curbside on the gritty Depression-era streets of Providence, Rhode Island, he honed this practice rolling dice against the gutter or shuffling cards with the grace and speed of a magician….

  • When I’m Gone

    After my mother died, I needed a word to describe how I felt. When I couldn’t find one, I realized that what I needed was not so much a word, as a sound, a sob, or maybe even a howl, a noise only the other motherless could hear, and come running. If I couldn’t find…

  • Death and the Motorcycle

    On a motorcycle, a dash to the grocery store takes on epic proportions. It requires armor: you pull on stiff black boots; zip yourself into a thick leather jacket with kevlar plates at the shoulder and elbow; squeeze into your helmet, buckle the chinstrap; pull on long leather gloves with hard knuckles. Hazards abound: cars…

  • Origins: Lost Traces

    “If it is true that there is an origin of language and if it is true that the origin of language is other to the uttered experience of language, then the origin is irreparably lost and unreachable.” —Paolo Bartoloni I. It was snowing that day. A scree of snow fell against a sky so white…

  • On the Famish

    What shall we call it when we’re sexually starving? I never liked the word "horny"; it’s trivializing and more than a little rhinocerean. Also too front heavy to be used for women. The old-fashioned phrase "on the lurch" sounds rude: monstro-comically (courtesy of The Addams Family) redolent both of lurching forward and being left in…

  • Old Flame

    I saw him once in all these years, walking up the steep hill from the bus stop, past my parents’ house, on his way home to the house where he lived with his wife. I was outside on the lawn that day with my two boys, interfering in one of their arguments, separating them while…

  • From the Ground Down

    "Something’s happened," my father says. There’s been a construction accident. A demolition gone wrong on a lot cattycorner to his apartment in Brooklyn. The crew dug too deeply into the dirt cavity where a house once stood, and into the bordering foundations. The house next door has collapsed. There may have been three people inside….