Filed under:Blogh — posted by jonfrankel on April 3, 2014 @ 7:01 am

“A teacher is expected to teach truth, and may perhaps flatter himself that he does so, if he stops with the alphabet or the multiplication table, as a mother teaches truth by making her child eat with a spoon; but morals are quite another truth and philosophy is more complex still. A teacher must either [...]

Ice Cream and Apples

Filed under:Blogh — posted by jonfrankel on March 18, 2014 @ 6:49 am

Aunt Betty and Nanny, 6 and 7 from the left I have been traveling by car this winter. I love a road trip and always have. Being at home, cooped up in the house drives me crazy. My kids are teenagers and being in the same house all the time is like living with impatient [...]


Filed under:Blogh — posted by jonfrankel on February 25, 2014 @ 10:11 am

Our dog Bo finally died. He’s been dying for months, and on his last legs for a month I suppose. Nothing dramatic, just like the air being slowly let out of a tire. I have really disliked him for years because of his behavior. But he was lovably eccentric I suppose. I did not feel sad [...]


Filed under:Blogh,Fiction,Novels and Novelists — posted by jonfrankel on February 21, 2014 @ 8:13 am

LAUGHING AT THE RUBES I just finished a short story, Pastoralia, by George Saunders, a writer I’ve heard of through friends, and perhaps nibbled around the edges of, but not actually read before. It is grossly unfair to judge a writer by one story, but as I started the second story in the collection, I [...]


Filed under:Fiction,Novels and Novelists — posted by jonfrankel on February 19, 2014 @ 9:42 am

JEFF JACKSON: MIRA CORPORA TWO DOLLAR RADIO, 2013 Jeff Jackson’s Mira Corpora is a short coming of age novel with a whiff of surrealism. At its center is a lost boy, running away from an abusive alcoholic mother. It is Picaresque in structure, and the narrative is heavily filtered through the subjective experience of the [...]

Wring the Dark

Filed under:Poetry — posted by jonfrankel on February 13, 2014 @ 6:07 am

If I could wring The dark from my brain, What of the spark Would remain? The matter is grey. Light itself is a stain In the colourless flux Of a winters day. And this is the crux, Echoed by the ruckus Of juncos and crows Sky in layers of clay.

When I’m Away

Filed under:Poetry — posted by jonfrankel on February 7, 2014 @ 5:02 pm

When I’m away I want you to miss me When I get back I want you to kiss me While I am driving I’ll think of your eyes Whenever I gaze at the clear winter skies If wind over water sends out silver ripples I’ll shiver imagining your mouth on my nipples Minutes will be [...]

Denuded Hills of Brazil

Filed under:Poetry — posted by jonfrankel on February 5, 2014 @ 10:20 am

In the 19th century her sex was fair In the 21st her sex is bare. No matter how old men cavil That the denuded hills of Brazil Are infantile and bizarre All hair is gone below the bar. Now I read that man’s best friend Is about to meet a hairy end. Now women say [...]


Filed under:Blogh — posted by jonfrankel on January 29, 2014 @ 6:01 am

Why would anyone want the face on the right over the face on the left?:                 I mean, the woman on the left is a human being who has lived , the one on the right looks like she was boiled in the fountain of youth and extruded [...]


Filed under:Poetry — posted by jonfrankel on January 21, 2014 @ 8:31 am

Out of Time I am out of time! The lines on the face In the mirror are mine. Bent at the waist, I trace Circles with a bill, But in the glass stand still.

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