Author Archives: kaweah

The Wreck of the Farallon

Under the grey deep, the plains, canyons, peaks, the flooded floor of the world rolls on to Laurentia, pressing on the Farallon, plank, mast, and sail out ahead on a black stone wave, driving her under the buoyant earth, caught in the undertow of her sunken bow, sinking deeper, ever deeper under the world, compressed […]

Personality Disorders

Sam Barber, sitting in the redwood parlor playing Adagio for Strings on the Steinway, and Una’s in the bathtub running the cold tap with a pistol in her hand and a bullet in her breast, her black broth bleeding out, making warm curlicues all around her, an arm reaching out for more sleeping pills. Behind […]

Falco urbanus

“Jeffers is my God.” — Charles Bukowski When the blades of the falcon’s silhouette flash Between the bright towers of the City we rub our eyes. Pigeons squat in gutters on watch for shadows. Not the ruddy-tailed buzzard the poet lionized; Bagger of rodents, wounded birds, wayward fledglings, Squats atop Tudor cottages and unicorn castles; […]

Rites of Disposal

When I’m finally done, when all my smoldering embers go cold, put me away. Clean me up, straighten me out, and put me in my box. Take it up to that green landfill where they dump such things and label them with cut stones. Find me a plot, dig me a hole. Sow me deep […]

Inscription on Helicon

I have seen her now: seasoned with eternity, simmers in her sky-cold sylvan pool, hard and white as the waning moon and quartzite banks, the last softening membrane of youth seared away in the slow forge of forever; breast peppered with translucent constellations when the sun breaks through the leaves. No fleshy delicacy—even of the […]

Hotel Jericho

Lowcountry, maybe twenty upstream miles from the Battery and a few feet above the sea; the gators and the blackwater patiently flow, and you can just about hear the ghost-song of the ivory bill echo off the cypress knees. On the south bank, the land swells forty or so feet to lanky yellow pine stands […]

Itinerant Healer

Chiropractic was unlicensed in New York State, so at age 31, Dad decided to move his practice elsewhere. He first hopped on a bus to Miami, slept on the beach there, and decided Miami wasn’t for him. He tried Denver next, and ran into another chiropractor who needed help with his practice. Dad joined the […]

The Voice of God

Though Dad’s mother had been excommunicated, he had been raised Catholic in some marginal sense. He was Catholic enough to be classified as such in his school records, and Catholic enough to be told by a priest that he was going to Hell. Once out on his own, he took a sharp turn away from […]

From Masseur to Chiropractor

After graduating from the New York Institute, Dad moved to Bedford Hills and then Katonah (both within several miles of home), and studied massage therapy at the Swedish Institute in Manhattan for 9 months. At age 22, Dad followed his parents to Bernardsville, New Jersey, where his father was a caretaker on another property, apparently […]


At age 19, John Jensen was injured while wrestling, and the injury led to glaucoma, which took away what little of his vision remained, caused him a great deal of discomfort, and robbed him of the balance, agility, and speed that made him a remarkable wrestler. In the summer before his senior year, J.J. was […]