Author: John P. O'Grady

A View

I look out this window my father looked out maybe I don’t know his last years weren’t that good he was probably looking elsewhere inward I guess that’s what I’m doing here looking the...

Night Ride

This is your receipt, not a ticket for travel. Please proceed. Ignore the rubbish tip, the vulgar negligee of fencing. The camera has no eye. The gate is open. Birth-toss out on a limb....

Even in Arkansas

Another ambitious morning of April, the usual idle reading, now it’s the dictionary—a reach, a stretch, a flip of the pages—a big book after all, to arrive at—Oh! the “wood-thrush”! Not our feathery friend...