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A Yankee Baseball Game
My annual tribute to my father, Antonio “Tony” Ruiz. My father never took me to a Yankees game when I was a kid. That was the secret burden of resentment I carried for a long time. At some point before… Continue reading
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I Ain’t No Superman
Man, I can’t catch a break. Hard living. First, my knee replacements. Both knees. Then, my recent brush with life-changing trauma, a stroke. It reminded me of my last body-slamming event: a blocked heart and the pacemaker implanted in my… Continue reading
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The Cult of Hate
“When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross.“—Sinclair Lewis It is a faint memory, but it’s there. At some point in my childhood, I was taught to beware of Russian people, because… Continue reading
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Four Months
Today marks four months since my mini-stroke. “We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” Joseph Campbell It seems so long ago, but it’s been… Continue reading
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The News Is Driving Us into A Dark Hole: A Flashback
This was originally posted on November 8, 2021. As you can see, not much has changed since then, except that they’ve gotten worse. I have a daily ritual: I wake up and organize my day. I scan both local and… Continue reading
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The Great Escape
In a god we trustWhen I was ten years old, as I was praying during Mass performing my duties as an altar boy in the basement church St. Rita of Cascia, kneeling before the raised altar, the gold cross hanging… Continue reading
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Smoke ‘em If You Got ‘em
The first time I saw an American joint was when some guy in the high school gym asked me to pass one along to another guy on the other side of meThat guy seemed awfully anxious to get it like… Continue reading
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golden tequila hangovers
The following poem was originally written in 1994 when Tequila Gold was my poison of choice. I have been sober for fifteen years, this coming September 11. wake up/if i canrolling over/from one deadday/into the nextmy moutha dirt-filled trench/shoveled with/bad… Continue reading
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space is the place/an ode to Sun Ra
Just past midnight on New Year’s Day in 1980, I witnessed a performance by the late jazz composer, bandleader, pianist, synthesizer player, and poet Sun Ra at D.C. Space in Washington, D.C, under the influence of acid. This is a tribute… Continue reading
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Inspiration
I’ve been told that inspiration for writing is everywhere. Just open your eyes.The person or object in front of you, even when it’s a computer screen or The view of the backyard through your office window. Look up at the… Continue reading
