Author Archives: Dale Hobson

One of the good things about gainful employment is that if you stick with it long enough, they will eventually throw you out and pay you just to stay away. Retirement, they call it.  Same as I Ever was If … Continue reading →

Sadly, I was sound asleep and dreaming at the time and I have no idea what the quotation was, or even if it was real. The bit of note paper certainly wasn’t. This dream brought back to mind one the … Continue reading →

Each year, a few weeks after school let out, we would overpack one of a succession of enormous station wagons and drive a thousand miles west to Indiana. Hobson relations were liberally salted across the state, and we would manage … Continue reading →

My resolution for the NewYear is to get together with other poets and artists more. I’ve been having a dry spell since I finished my manuscript “The Other Village.” Before I retired, I had a weekly writing assignment to keep … Continue reading →

I’ve written about my poetry “junk drawer” before, how it is sometimes possible to weld pieces together into something good (or good enough, anyway). But no matter how often those unlikely mashups occur, the junk drawer seems to stay as … Continue reading →

There is a cruel streak in American culture that recognizes the utility of keeping people insecure, that wields power by making sure that the bottom is as far down as possible, and that there is no sure way to avoid … Continue reading →

I don’t often sweat the big picture. I’m more focused on the small and nearby. But some nights I don’t sleep well and then night thoughts connect the dots for me and I hear the voice of Afrofuturist poet and … Continue reading →