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To My Children, With Apologies

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My apologies also for those crowded roads you and your families have to drive on. My generation would have built more public transportation but, in all honesty, we just didn't give a damn.

Lost in Suomi

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Wind pummeled me awake, smelling of pine and some quality of newness I could not identify...

Saturday Housekeeping

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

The Gate Before

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You were always goingto connect the dots. I was always goingto overfill a bucketwith poems. You wouldeventually drive off wavingyour hand like astar on a spring. I'dshoulder up another notebookfor the walk. Myhand would rather holda pencil. Yours wouldaccept a kiss…

A Thousand Words

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Photographs can create, both good and bad. They can create a way to make a living, but they can also create opportunities for black mail, divorce settlements and most of all they can create power.

True Romance '66

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First thing each morning, Miss Murgy, a tall witch of a woman, cornered both of us like she did every day. "Girls…" with that she clinked a tea spoon on a shot glass, "do I have your attention?" "Yes, m'am," Vicky said. 6 a.m., six…

The Dilemma

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Scribble something basic with traces of spectacular,pen every pint of pain spilled during the massacrewhittle the convoluted down to the vernacularboiled the whole story, now you got everybody crackin' upnow step back from the business like, “man, that's wack as…

The Celebrity

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I love reading about myself. There's nothing more gratifying than seeing my name in the paper, knowing so many people are interested in who I am and what I do.

Not Sure If You're Actually Having Sex? I Can Help.

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When I stumbled upon evidence that the man I'd loved and trusted for 20 years had a secret girlfriend for the past 10 of those years, he tried to deny it.“We never had sex!” he told me. And I believed him. For about two minutes.“You never…

Her Hair, a Braid

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She’s there, in a tin, loosely wound beneath sepia tissue paper, a braid to worry in your fingers.

Security

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Her preferred post-coital activity is to pant, to suck in air with urgent greed.

The Moral of This Story Is

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Always take the train.

When it Gets Dark

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The world—the natural world—was terrible and beautiful in wartime. The leaves shuddered off trees. The pockmarked fields. The fallen brick chimneys. The way the birds heaved together in enormous flocks like rescue missions and then just as…

Cento In Prose and Poetry

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*A"Cento" which is a "patchwork poem" using the words of other writers. for V.W. …

Sign of the Times

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As I go by I see five, six high school kids standing on the corner waiting for the bus. They are huddled together like a bunch of ducks....

The Room Below

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The closed door swallowed up both voices, and all I could make out afterward were muffled pleas and angry answers that died completely.

Subservient

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There's still a swatch of jelly on his lower lip. Did you notice? That's not the way it's done, even on the tractor.

Framed

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We can apprehend beauty only/ by framing it with the photographic/ paper’s edge or the novel’s margins/ and bookends.

Restland,

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He died a printer finding late/ after so much selling himself selling/ a craft that pleased and paid enough

Kai (excerpt)

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Kai,
 
Oh the mathematics of solitude. I wish your father there. I read your wanting subtracted between the lines. He is almost gone. Hallucinates, not awake even though eyes are open. Yesterday he saw the baby brother you never met. I light four ultramarine…

Greedy Pigs

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So I says,

If we thought that love was gone

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If we thought that love was gone that out of sweetness none remained

Prologue: April 16, 1970

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The muster zone was south of U.S. 119, off the Halleck Road. The search began on a large parcel, some 75 acres of farmland, property of one Mr. Shakelford. Shakelford had allowed the earth to go wild; brush, thistle and small…

Truth Or Consequence

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Mass media thought control, from consumer advertising to political sloganeering, is creating a new generation of irrational thinkers. If this trend continues, one day soon we may find ourselves under the control of some genius gone haywire.

Four hearts and a vase of jonquils

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Yankees call them daffodils.

The End of My Second Life

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We are moments away from the end, and it feels like it.

The Adventures of Tequila Kitty: Chapter 3 - by Brian Lepire

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I’d made it to the motel parking lot when I heard the footsteps. A sombrero may make me look good, but it does shit for my hearing, so the bastards were able to scoop me up real quick. The first one gave me a hard slap on the top of the head with an opene

PTSD

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My therapist told me I have post traumatic stress disorder My uncle had that He fought in the war I guess I fought in my own kind Not between countries Between children and father Between husband and wife Between addiction and sobriety When my father got…

Refuge

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cotton balls in your ears do not deafen you to the rocking of your mother's bed...as she and the new uncle set forth on the turbulent sea of their maiden voyage.

Mercury Unbound - 3

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I've been mostly positive since joining up with Sister Helen. My previous pessimism involved spiritual degeneration, moral decline and decay, weak and weary instincts. I clung to life, afraid to die. Then I read something by Nietzsche, I'm not sure where but, like a seed,…