Paul Lojeski: August blazing across Boston. Working that factory, a furnace inside, sweating sheet metal walls. Blacks and Cubans and Puerto Ricans and two long-haired white boys banging iron, wielding flame.
Paul Lojeski: The good man’s smile lit up the ballroom like a full moon over a Caribbean Sea.
Paul Lojeski: Bombs blasting hospitals shredding babies and doctors the big dog gargoyle creeping to Helicopter One, waving at the cameras, smiling that bloody grin of menace and murder
Paul Lojeski: He woke, feeling nature pushing down on him, demanding attention, requiring recognition. Terminators
The War Game At the Garden to see the Knicks and Cavs, when the spectacle began: the lights went down, the announcer dramatically, somberly introducing the wounded warrior and the mob erupted as the spotlight bathed their hero soldier in a ray of blazing white light. Then his fragile but steely voice filled the now […]