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In all these rotten shops, in all this broken furniture
and wrinkled ties and baseball trophies and coffee pots
I have never seen a post-war Philco
with the automatic eye
nor heard Ravel’s “Bolero”…
Flat Bush, Saturday, 10 o’c[lock]., August 10th, [17]’81
My dear Abby: [ . . . ]
[ . . . ] By the by, few N.York ladies know how to entertain company in their own houses unless they introduce the card…
Who among you, my little brothers, my dear children, has not played this game? We all know it, you might think so in your hearts, we do not need to talk about it. But I will lay this game out before…
After an absence of many years, I returned to Alsace in November 1856, in response to the invitation of an old friend. During this first and short visit, I was greatly moved in recovering all the…
When I try to think which game I like the most, I usually think of make-believe acting games. Even if they’re without masks, funny clothes, or old shoes with wrinkled tongues. Even if there’s no…