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Don Barkin

Author

Informal Logic

She was mean to me out of the blue. So I took to my room with a black cloth of rage draped on my head. In the room, however, an insect was waiting. —A long, long-legged thing with, probably, antlers if you looked at it closely. Ordinarily, death is [...]

The Mathew Brady Photographs

They stand there in the old days staring straight into our time with their solemn grimy faces. They rode around on horses, suffered toothache to its bloody end. And when they died, they just died. (God was in His prime,     and could take on Sci [...]

Grief

A stone stands in the throat of the stream, asleep in the sun. The stream falls at its feet —it breaks like a storm, like a hopeless wife assailing at long last with tears and wailing the statue of her sleeping husband. The stream buries its broken [...]