Jul/Aug 2018

e c l e c t i c a
s a l o n


(These are excerpts—click on the title to view the whole piece!)

The Collective Me

We can't philosophize our way to a larger itself. We can only get there by going, by participating. It is all journey, no arrival, no resolution, no "answers." Even our dying is part of the journey as long as we remain connected to something greater than our discrete individuality.

Thomas J. Hubschman


She Stoops to Conquer

And as she lay not dying, she could hear the cries of the desperadoes who had cut her down. Terrified boys with guns, really. They'd cut her down in the winter. On the Great Plains. Never in Oregon, let alone Deadwood. And never no gold. As they fled the scene of their crime. Like a herd panicked over a cliff.

Stanley Jenkins