1992: Regime Change

1992 stumbles and missteps degree in hand job in another far land fell apart the chris columbus of our enterprise mistook the impact of his pitch hired too many teachers for the clientele delivered by his english language salesmen last on, first off, i am no longer wanted on the voyage. did cristobal’s crew master do…

1989: Image and Reality

it’s 1989 i’ve become accustomed to the song of cicadas in the patio the nightly drop of avocados morning’s race to get my share before pirate rats taste them all; accustomed to flipping fruit to find toothmarks in the hide and never a glimpse of fur or tail.   i’ve grown used to the softness…

1988: Para Empezar

it was 1988 the morning after a thunderstorm that washed part of the mountainside down i caught my first sight of Ajijic. my plane arrived late, and the first i knew of Mexico was rich tropical air, and then, the white-painted waists of roadside trees in the heavy, sub-tropical night. i woke in a room…

1987: Harmonics

it was 1987, and my creative writing class had created for me a community, stevie and mokina; outside the academy’s walls, we’d drink tea cheap beer, potato skins, and we’d walk stevie and i, we would sometimes sing together but we couldn’t harmonise. it was as if we were designed in different keys. he lived…

1986: the stereo stand

it was 1986 and my brother had made a stereo stand it was crap, frankly, a cry of despair if you knew how to read such things, but i didn’t. we just liked having a stereo stand because of course, my sister had a stereo she also had me, and her old pal as room…