Tag Archives: boston

Goodbye Columbus Day

October 11, 2023 – 5:23 am

Before the arrival of Christo Columbo in 1492, the New World was filled with empires, confederations, republics, city-states, and tribal lands. These diverse peoples represented a broad scattering of cultures. The population of the two connected continents has been estimated by modern historians to be approximately twenty-five million people from the Bering Straits to the […]

By Peter | Posted in Art, brooklyn | Also tagged , , , | Comments (0)

DA AUTUMN LEAVES by Peter Nolan Smith

September 22, 2023 – 6:12 pm

Written October 2010 Back in the 60s my family home on the South Shore bordered on a small woods and every October the trees beyond the old stone wall turned brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges. The glorious explosion of color lasted several weeks, then the colding wind ripped the weaker leaves from the branches and […]

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Bound to Burn at the Stake

August 24, 2023 – 9:01 pm

Written April 22, 2009 My Argentinean friend, Dampira, send a Facebook survey of what Biblical character she would be. The website search engine decided Deborah, a prophetess of the Old Testament. My apostasy forced a rude reaction. “Better you were Mary Magdalene. A fucking whore.” Dampira was taken aback at my vehemence and I explained […]

By Peter | Posted in religion | Also tagged , | Comments (0)

BLESS ME FATHER by Peter Nolan Smith

August 23, 2023 – 8:38 am

Written February 10, 2022 My First Holy Communion and Confirmation of Faith to the Catholic Church took place at a church in Maine in 1960. My mother dressed me in white to symbolize the purity of my soul, although she had me wear a red jacket with a black velvet lapel. I had a fight […]

By Peter | Posted in maine, religion, semi-fiction, youth | Also tagged , , , , | Comments (0)

HEAVY METAL ACCORDION by Peter Nolan Smith

August 23, 2023 – 1:35 am

Written May 3, 2020 Every boy has a best friend in his youth. In 1959 my family lived on Falmouth Foresides. Mckinley Road ended at the bluff overlooking the mudflats of Portland Harbor. I was lucky enough to have two friends; my older brother Frunk and a neighbor. Chaney and I attended the same kindergarten […]

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