by Daniel J. Travanti | Jun 20, 1990 | Essay
Rennie Court The tensions ease subtly. That means they come and hold subtly. You know there’s too much work to do. You feel there isn’t...
by Daniel J. Travanti | May 11, 1990 | Essay
There’s a chill today in the May Manhattan air that gives me old shivers. Haunting ghosts are riding on it, swirling just above me. Or are they at home, here on first avenue? I haunt them. My new old haunts, these streets. I invade them again, they greet...
by Daniel J. Travanti | May 10, 1990 | Essay
ON THE WAY TO LONDON I’ve spent the whole day rummaging through all my closets. I’ve been packing, but as always with these simple intentions, I stretched the agenda to include switching some clothes from wire hangers to plastic and vice versa (Danny...
by Daniel J. Travanti | Feb 2, 1990 | Essay
February 2, 1990 Evans Road...
by Daniel J. Travanti | Jan 22, 1990 | Essay
RE: Slanderous Article When Senator Joseph McCarthy recklessly attacked American citizens who were found guilty in the end only of defying his committee, he started each assault by declaring someone a communist. People who believe him expected that the...
by Daniel J. Travanti | Dec 24, 1989 | Essay
Cleveland The pile on the table just grew. The script got there. I put it down, on top of its envelope, actually. A manila envelope, torn at the flap, ragged, flattened under an inch thick ream of white sheets, is its skimpy bed. Then some cards,...
