Most discussed stories

dream girl

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friends come in dreams

3 short poems

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Say the word and I shall become a photograph;

Not as a Poet

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She's not a poet, but does she have to be? She comes to the reading to read the poems of her recently dead husband, for she made a vow: that she would read his work at an open mic. Now she is keeping her word. It's her way of keeping him alive or maybe it's his way of…

Polyester Purgatory

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They line the bar beside me. Talking about themselves and estranged children, while rubbing necks and wrists, searching for the pulse.

Authenticity in a Time of Consolidation

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Culture gives what it feels you deserve/ in the cul-de-sac of your time and place.

In the Carnage of Lament

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.

Saturday Housekeeping

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but I pretend again I've kept the prairie/ out, have battled back the smoke and dirt

One old and one new

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served as it is/ among these friends. The frayed filaments/ tickle my chin and irritate my nostrils,

What the Trees Were Expecting

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that day is my barking up and leaves falling down story, but in their elephant slowness it seemed no more than the regular run of the sun slightly disappearing here, and then maybe reappearing there, like a lost color, way over the horizon, or the…

An Irish Seder

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The promise of free food and drink was too much to pass up since I hadn't played a gig in months and was living on peanut butter and celery. When Kelly called I was too hungry and thirsty for drink to turn him down.

It's Tough

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got the space heater going in the desert got a lot of space out there somewhere

Awash

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Nobody has been able to use the washer and dryer for over a month now. Our neighbors have gone laundry crazy. They've become suds-a-holics. They wash everything. If it isn't nailed down, they wash it. Outboard engines, peculiar feelings, dominatrix boots, metaphors,…

Layover Memories

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It was a pleasant time, my thoughts were mostly good ones, with little effort wasted on regret.

Car Alarm

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That’s the body for you.

Low-Country Squirrel

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Maddy knew how to make a sauce. It embraced the meat in a thick, buttery ooze.

The Undertakers of the Dead by Unseen Hands(Young Poet at the Bus Stop with Some new Vinyl in his Hand)

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"The truth isn't always beauty, but the hunger for it is.'--Nadine Gordimer Other things do matter just as much of course. Of course they do. Hey I'm still kind of alive inside this poem here. At least I'd like to think so, so yes another…

Secret Lives of Cell Phones

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...collapse of the human world. Go, cell phones!

Mother Died Tomorrow

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memories that no longer make sense

Peace in the Backyard

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No lies in the sky

Model T Ford

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It lies in rusting riot of shadowed days. Flying high its emblem wings, forever stalled.

Young fool

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my lawn, get off of it

Two Little Fictions

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His work was done. For sixty years, beginning soon after his seventeenth birthday, he had listened to the gods- good, bad, somewhere in between-

Past Imperfect, Future Imperfect

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A proper study of human history should lead the student to an inescapable desire to commit suicide

Fear Us, Oh Yes.

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Start now. Make lists. Call long-lost friends. Say what needs saying. Raise hell.

Drunk Sonnet (for Meg Tuite)

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perjured like a fickle impulse

All the Broken People

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We all// fall short and fail.

Old men, old dogs

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old men with crispy sunburnt ears

At the Bar

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On the Nightly News a pedophile in an orange jumpsuit does a sashay of shame in front of a wolf pack of cameras and satellite feeds that surround the downtown courthouse. At the bar, a woman with big blonde hair and a rhinestone manicure says off with his head. A…

Derivative

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It’s not the money. The money’s/ just a way of keeping score.

The First Day

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One sentence