From this morning’s BOSTON GLOBE: As the nation prepares to mark the 150th anniversary of the American Civil War in 2011, with commemorations that reinforce the North/South divide, researchers are offering uncomfortable answers to that question, unearthing more and more of the hidden stories of New England slavery — its brutality, its staying power, and […]
THE DEFINITE ARTICLE The people crowded the square.The crowd peopled the square.The troops circled the square.The troops and the people squared off.The name of the people is they.The name of the troops is not us.The name of the square is there.The name of the circle is again.The square peopled the news.The news circled the world.The […]
POOR FREUD, “Freud’s theory of sexuality was the half-truth with which he reconfigured his own traumas and anxiety.” — Louis Breger, FREUD: DARKNESS IN THE MIDST OF VISION walking home,clips a cigar,wants nothing much:an evening’s peace,some coke in the vein,a postulate to chew on;maybe he will finallywrite that letterto his father. Butthey come again:the boys […]
FROM A FRONT WINDOW 1.There is the city of glass and money,over there, but here it comes,closer with every newspaper.Unidentified lying spokesmeninterpret the same old photos:the bloody feet of refugees,the bloody hands of soldiers.Here comes someone, not a neighbor,with a clipboard and a calculator.Where will we grow children and roses?Where will we grow older? 2.Because […]
ABOVE THE FALLS Watch them on the footbridgeabove the fallsthat keeps us from hearing what they say:he leans on the lake side, looking far across,she, above the falls, looks down. We can imagine what he seesis moving with the water to the falls,that the reflections of the trees, the clouds,the docks and houses are a […]
A PARABLE FOR FIRST MONDAY, JANUARY Driving home from the warehouse,little jazz on FM, the moon lowand full over the frozen reservoir,a powder polishing the ice. Supposethose lights behind me, gaining,were someone speeding to catch upto tell me I’d forgotten something; not this flatbed rattling pastwith a load of empties.
LINING-OFF THE FIELD My father handed me the flags and paidout string from where he stoodat home, waving me deeper, waving me rightor left, “More left. A little less. Yes.Good.” Then with the string held high,a wind-rolled arcbetween us, I ran hard acrossthe outfield and we set the Left-field flag. Suppose the string were one […]
RICHARD HOFFMAN 
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