Greg Lobas

I’m getting a vacation in my mouth! you quipped on the morning of your oral surgery. A trip to Aruba in a single tooth. Driving to your appointment, we passed mountains gathered like blue muslin fabric in the distance, and mountains beyond mountains, where the blue of sky melts into the blue of earth the

The skin of my father is like a crumpled newspaper. I told him today that I loved him, that I was sorry if I ever made him feel unloved. Such things you might say to a ninety-four-year-old man, especially if you have never said them before. This, which he has never said to me, This