Pockets
a poem by Richard Duby
Joseph sat on the park bench, in the Commons, on a beautiful, sultry, late Spring day. Yet, he wore a raincoat. An old raincoat colored something between khaki and tan. In the right hand pocket his fingers gently squeezed the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that was [...]
Nikola Kavaja lives in a drab, Communist-era high-rise in Belgrade, Serbia’s crumbling capital. His two-room apartment is sparsely furnished: a single mattress and dresser in one room, and a scratched-up wooden desk, a couch, and a bench press in the other. The white walls are cluttered with pictures of the people who figure most [...]
Many years ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I was in a situation where a small group of men had to depend on one another for their very survival. There was no “I” in this situation, there was only “we.” A collective conscience so strong that the concept of self interest had no [...]
I have a number of extremely talented friends…musicians. Most of them have a very difficult time pounding a living out of their creative process. In the “music industry” it’s all about the package wrapping. What’s inside the package is mostly of little import. Well, I can’t take on the whole music industry but I [...]
I have grown weary of American politics. As a matter of fact, I’ve grown weary of America. It seems to have transformed itself from a vibrant, creative source of intellectual growth into a dark hole of fundamentalist religious dogma, antithetical to any person of curiosity and possessed of a probing, inquisitive mind. This has [...]
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