Author Archives: jonwolston

Once I listened to some good advice beside a swimming hole in Vermont. My soaking blue jeans lost their spartan sparkle as Pat O’Malley’s face glistened like Athena’s. On the spot I changed into her boyfriend’s overalls and a Mexican … Continue reading →

Celebrate today our steaming cyclist’s journey, life’s complications, and simple egress from teeming thickets of all that is in the way.

Have you walked alone in the rain in June, bike on your shoulder both tires flat, and been glad of no-traffic on the rutty old road, of no supper-to-get-cold of no friends on-the-other-end to worry-where-is-he or eat-without-you and call you … Continue reading →

Mind Is Amazement. Monday Is Anticlimax. Milking It Always.

O table saw! I can’t give you away it seems. Since we grew to be such friends under a blue tarp last September, cutting custom jambs for the ones I kicked out, your dusty blade keeps returning. I thought I’d … Continue reading →

Troy dives for my crotch. Black Zeta bogarts Sponge Bob. Alpha-male Yeager is away at a show.

Radiators hiss. Black Zeta growls in her sleep. The old furnace roars.

New post in Solitude.

My brother William takes down the paper Bayeux Tapestry draped along the beige walls of our quality inn, carefully folding the lame rendition of colored woolen yarns. Too much entropy he said. Outside, the frosty rail-cut trembles with each passing … Continue reading →

Take the one I hold I fear though the two I love so dear.