First lines from Buccino's books
Fingernails scratch the paper, They point at a blank page.
Days You Knew Me
Well, obviously, it's March. So here on the fourth I sit to finish the note I began five weeks ago...
Just a few hundred years ago/ in the thick green undergrowth/ where the Yanticaw Creek/ meets the wide old Passaic River/ the fish surrendered by jumping/ into hollowed dugout canoes.
In the new land it will be better.
Being the man of the house carries with it a tremendous amount of responsibility.
In August 1999, I tried out for a new job on the eighth floor of Harborside, a Jersey City building fronting the Hudson River with its back to the sprawling city to the west.Jersey City Snapshots
Back in the day, our refrigerator's freezer was the size of two ice trays and a pound of chop meat.
SITTING IN A DESK DRAWER:
Saving pigeons/ that hit the power line:/ Boil water, a needle and thread.
Unfamiliar with words and how to stack them/One upon the other in long strings that make sense,/ She asks me how to write a poem,
Writing My Way Home
You may not know/ to look at them/ but the scavenging seagulls/ circling, whirling overhead/ have a corporate structure.
Hands In Socks
Everywhere you looked in Grandma's yard you saw cats creeping around.
Chasing the Mosquito Man
How could anyone, let alone my older sister, move to a state where you canít get Taylor ham, good veal cutlets or Brookdale soda?
Bula, Bula, Ashtabula
I never did it on a train before, Iíd seen people in movies, they did it on a train or a set supposed to look like a train moving along, as for me, I made it these four decades without ever riding the NYC subway either.
First lines based on first-print (and latest draft) editions
Essays, photography, military history, more
New Jersey author Anthony Buccino's stories of the 1960s, transit coverage and other writings earned four Society of Professional Journalists Excellence in Journalism awards.
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