Decades ago a small college out in the boondocks put Ambrose, a freshman, on a Greyhound Bus to attend a student convention in New York.

You find old poems in the attic in a box with the Remington Rand you wrote them on in the Sixties before computers were born. They were published then in little

There never was anyone like Ali between the ropes or facing the public. In the ring and out

The call comes in to the police station. It’s a small town and the voice at the library says “He’s at it again.”

Middle of the night someone’s in the house. Can’t be the wife asleep next to you. She’ll be mad

I told my son now that he’s a father he has to be careful about what he says around his child. No swearing, of course,

I came back to You late and still don’t understand why the Father asked You to die for me and everyone else. I learned the Ten Commandments

twenty-four houses on the same block everyone inside milling about one lost a job

Born at the foot of the mountain what will you do? You have time to decide but some die young.

You think you got problems? You probably do but would you trade with Phillip, a Vietnam vet who still thinks Agent Orange lurks in

How many times have I said I’m through teasing myself, through pretending I don’t enjoy the wreath of a woman

Someone has to cut the grass Molly tells Bill dozing off in his recliner too weary to cut it. For years a vet from Vietnam

Lightning bolts in childhood can scar the soul forever. They’re a satanic baptism when the minister’s your father, mother, brother, sister,

Every once in awhile over the last 40 years Ralph wondered what might have happened to the guy who had moved in with the mother

Linda’s on TV this morning being interviewed by someone who specializes in interviewing unusual people. Linda’s a smart woman but