The Selfish Self     I am my world – A world apart.   Apart from me there is nothing.   The world is mine.   It arises from the...

What the Mirror Said     I am the image and you are the body.  In the mirror we appear complete;  We are whole: two as one.  For a few...

I came, through sea waves, misty-brained,  My love songs crumbling to shadows,  And I was halved to something  Less than human. How could...

Irked Like a sacred text folded in on itself, a page half torn away, stains in the margins, a footnote wrongly numbered, the letter ‘i’...

Seeing this house, that tree, the sky – my experience is already in accord with certain classes of thought*. World anterior to thought...

The eye looks, the ear waits, the head turns, the heart aches, the lung breathes, the hand gropes.   Skull! cerebral hemispheres! limbic...

The Humanzee  In the heat of a celluloid American night, Doctor Franklin Ahab — host to a crowd of forty souls — walks in a stately manner through the upper rooms of his Massachusetts mansion. He descends the wide staircase, smiling and reeling off witty one-liners. An orchestra plays The Rite of Spring  in the enormous dining hall. For a few minutes Ahab casually mingles among his guests, then calls for the conductor to settle down. Hester, his life partner in a transparent