by Daniel J. Travanti | Nov 21, 1993 | Essay
Chicago I have been troubled by zoos and art for art’s sake. I just found out what my trouble has been. They are not fair. They are not legitimate. I can explain. I want clean food. I want exercise that makes sense. I want to read only good writing. I wish...
by Daniel J. Travanti | Nov 11, 1993 | Poetry and Prose
My cat likes citrus, my niece says Try yours, start with a nectarine or an orange Your dog likes almonds, I know And popcorn gets her going These delights are tasty incongruities That prove the rule of taste For animals and people The gusto’s in the giving The juicy,...
by Daniel J. Travanti | Nov 3, 1993 | Poetry and Prose
I think of January as a place I get to each year, and I turn A corner there Into the next place, which is in a different time, and I feel I’m moving along Afraid to be there, sometimes, but wanting to get on with it With relief That the land of time behind me can be...
by Daniel J. Travanti | Nov 2, 1993 | Essay
November 2, 1993 Chicago...
by Daniel J. Travanti | Oct 27, 1993 | Essay
Chicago Am I the only one frightened by this tendency? Life is a Disney ride. Every activity is a fantasy. Each one requires a ticket. Most rides are “D” or “E” riders. Those are the tickets you come back with. You use up the good tickets, those for the...
