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My Date With Satan

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My date with Satan commenced at the Sanrio store by Union Square where we went to browse through two stories of miniature Japanese school supplies and grooming accessories.

How I learned what to pray for

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“Mommy,” the voice was thin as a fledgling's. “I'm here, baby,” I said. An arm rose from the pavement and small fingers wound themselves into my…

September Morning

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They were carried out / over shoulders of running soldiers / naked bodies pass

More About Nils Whose Real Name is Georges

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I think he viewed Communion as an act of hygiene that allowed him to go on being fiery and self-determined.

Awaiting the End of Time

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The alphabets will disappear.

The World is Bigger

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It is best not to judge.

The Dog

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The dog is reading. This morning, as every morning, the book is open in front of him. Well before his master's rise, he had already read the moon then dawn and the clouds. Now the slippers, these that walk here and there. Followed by coffee and the pages that turn. A little…

Lending Books

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In the late 60’s, I lived on West 71st street in Manhattan and borrowed books from a store.

The Coach

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We sat in the weight room. The coach walked in with his clipboard and stood until we were quiet.

Alone

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It's not loneliness I'm afraid of. It's how I would be happy to be alone too much.

Community

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an undercurrent of fear is running through my community

What I wanted in 1981

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i stained his hockey sheets right over the red wings

Halloween Hangover

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Did someone say BOO?

Bullshit Aeneid

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Of arms and the man...

Shira Dances

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She feels the music deep in her belly,her hips swaying, she looks out through lids no longer guardedand sees you, Her knees bend, her eyes close, She is moving back and forth,a pulse in time,Her arms snake around her head,She does not ask,may I enjoy myself?…

Please

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"What I need to wear the ring for," I said to myself, "I already got his last name..."

Easter

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Marge didn't eat lamb or pork.

No Hay Bandaid

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Pain is the saddle which rides me Pain is the cowboy's gun More morphing, please!

The Poet. Pt. 2

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for the rush of longing and brush with flight that is her imagination will surely lift her above the traffic

Liking in "The Scarlet Letter"

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like the dome of an immense lamp like blades of grass at the sweep of the scythe like a line of cliffs against a tempestuous tide

Martini

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She drinks a chocolate martini. I fold myself up and slide into her pocket.

Gaza Suite

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Tender bodies sizzle on the grill.

Soon, and for the Rest of Your Life

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. . . and the last thing you’ll smell will be new-cut pine.

Then, But Not Now

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The one-legged crow was back in the yard again today, as it was yesterday and may have been before, but yesterday was the first time I noticed it among the murder while using the binoculars that I often use to bring things closer, things like these iridescent and beautiful…

Sherando

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the Blue Ridge Mountains were entangled in their usual mist, but the early morning sky looked good

4 o' clock

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I still walk into galleries. A shadow of my old self still walks into galleries. That old self was hungry to be wounded by the juxtaposition of color and form and texture and line and darkness and light. But I can no longer see art. I can…

Amends

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We met in graduate school. We were both taking a course on teaching using the case study method over at the Business School. I was from psychology. She was from biology. We were both getting Harvard doctorates. But as many people…

Klonakilty

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Magdalena White Herrington praised the lucky stars who’d sent her the Klonakilty ghosts.

Corporal Punishment

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When I was a little boy, I had a thing about women’s behinds.

Fulfillment

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And she's dying like someone who's tried living and failed.