The Writer's Life: Film & Book Reviews, Observations, and Stories
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Ghost Dog

Definitely an acquired taste,
Drinking two identical cups of espresso
Unable to speak the language
Totally alone
Practicing tai chi chuan
Imagining he’s a samurai
At the limits of control,
Strange constipation in which
He almost passes out two or three times,
Though once it starts
It can never be stopped,
Modern life
With its symbols that mean nothing
Its exquisite cinematography,
Its repetitive dialogue trivializing what was once profound,
Characters with whom we have no real connection
A helicopter clattering overhead
Stopping traffic so He can pass by—
And though it never happens in the same way,
And it doesn’t matter how I frame it,
La vida no vale nada.

November 15, 2009   Comments Off on Ghost Dog


Ball of cockleburs
Rolling across the cold ground
Like a tumbleweed.

November 15, 2009   Comments Off on 233


The funniest and, therefore, the best werewolf film ever made was directed by Mike Nichols in 1994 and aptly named Wolf. It was all done tongue-in-cheek and starred Jack Nicholson before he grew too fat and old to be a convincing werewolf. Of course, it didn’t hurt to have Michelle Pfeiffer, James Spader, and Christopher Plummer in the supporting roles. I love this picture of Nicholson below. With those eyes he makes the perfect werewolf.


November 15, 2009   Comments Off on Wolf