I met a traveller from a cable-news state Who said: In the centre of a vast parade ground Stand the boots of a statue, taller than belief, Polished smooth by decades of salutes. Above them, the torso leans forward, One arm raised in menace and self-adulation, The other crumpling a Constitution. Nearby, half-submerged in concrete dust, A broken face lies staring upward — The lips still fixed in a smile rehearsed for cameras, The eyes wide with the promise of permanence. And on

Bob Morrissey Every so often, my condo neighbour checks in on me — especially if she hasn’t seen me for a bit. I enjoy these unexpected visits because, for one thing, opening my front door helps air out the place; helps lessen that musty old-man smell. I never invite her in; instead we make small talk on my welcome mat. The conversation usually goes something like this: she’ll ask “how’ve you been?” and I’ll say “just fine … and you?” She’ll say “I’m good,” followed by an aw

How to Look Like You’re in Your Late Seventies Eight octogenarians from the Wrinkle Industrial Complex reveal the small, petty lies that shave years off your perceived age EARL FOWLER Special to Mortal Coil Monthly There comes a moment in life when “anti-aging” stops meaning wrinkle cream and starts meaning optics . At 82, no one’s mistaking you for 60 — but with the right mindset, posture and selective omission of facts, you can absolutely pass for a sprightly  78. We spo