Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • Everything I once was could fit inside a small wagon.
    Now I am a force that is hard to contain.
    My morning began with a note from my mother.
    The report from the front was bad.
    The chemical factory, that is the human body, is a war zone.
    There was a drop in my Father's blood sugar down to 41, when normal is 70-100.
    The result, to all outside appearances, is similar to a drunken rage.
    Kids, don’t try this at home.
    So begins the morning reverie.
    Of life and deathing,
    My long, slow spiral down and around the past,
    I circle my thoughts like a vulture, waiting to pick one out.
    My personal time machine is working overtime these days.
    I keep meeting my memories in a dark alley,
    And it is like the Sharks and the Jets squaring off to Leonard Bernstein’s sizzling score,
    Fingers snapping, switchblades out,
    Choreographed cool.
    My memories and me are dancing,
    Looking at each other shifty eyed.
    Then they become autumn leaves and I shuffle through the piles of falling memories.
    I worked in and on Leonard Bernstein’s former apartment,
    When he died the place got a spectacular makeover,
    It became elegant, refined and costly.
    The new owners had a grand piano with an automated player box on it.
    I think about that sometimes,
    A composer, "America’s composer", was replaced with a mechanical device.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.