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The Poem Sits at Home and Envies as It Celebrates Music

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Translation’s not required—music/ sings itself complete and comprehensible

Blank Light, Wooded Light (ELECTRIC DELIRIUM 1.7)

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Ships tumble, cars crash, horns gulp water, bombs burst up from the ground in a halo of screams.

Iowa

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"It was John-Darren who once told me that he felt sorry for women."

Saved

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I woke up pissed off—like that feeling you get when you take a long nap in the afternoon. Except instead of being on a couch or a bed, I was trapped in a mashed-up Honda on I-75.

Propped Up

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Christmas Muzak was piped through to every store in the shopping mall. Giant red velvet bows adorned reproduction Victorian gaslights. Yards of glittered cotton pretended to be snow. A Santa rang a brass bell.

CURTAINS

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She also castrated her cat. All by herself...with her Swiss Army Knife. And not with the blade either.

A Letter From Uncle Bernie

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...Truth is, it’s because of fabulously wealthy men and women like myself who long ago sucked all the cream out of the bottle, and now we’re coming back for whatever milk remains.

The Lincoln Effect

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Ty speed-walked down the long ass tunnel that connected his “A” train to the NJ Transit bus, which would take him across the bridge, where he'd splurge for a cab to take him home.

"What It Means to Exodus" Or, "Brrrraaaawww"

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"I have consulted the Internet," the man remarks, squatting low, sorting through a mountain of tablets. He snags two and stands slowly, confidently, and I realize suddenly that he is Moses. Two iPads, cradled surely in each wrist, glow with lists.

Myra's Middle Name

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Maybe our whole generation is going to hell, but I’m not getting any younger or better looking. Life’s too short for the missionary position.

//i look beneath your skin:

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x ≥ ponds rise beyond where you & i have stood

ASH WEDNESDAY

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Everybody knew the McDonald’s at the Waterfront was selling theraflu stamp bags, and I guess I’d heard how bad it was for you—they’d had reports of dumbasses ODing on channel 2, 4, and 11—but it was a lot stronger than regular heroin and a lot cheaper...

Horace

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The young boy sat on the swing, hearing sirens in the distance. The tops of his shoes were dirty. His fingers as well, where he drew stick figures of people in the dirt. His…

One Foot in front of the Other

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And soon you'll be walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking and walking

Only Shadows

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There is a whisper in the shadows

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 25

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It was 6 a.m. when the phone next to the bed awakened Francesco.

Red and Lavendar Silk

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Swatches of Chinese silk in vivid red and lavender fly through the air. My granddaughter in her mid-thirties reaches for the cloth. I see in her mirror a shape forming; a slim, gray haired woman with a spring in her step. I pause to admire my reflection and pass over the…

1962, What I wanted

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1962, What I wanted was a Levittowner rancher like my best friend had,

Pool

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“That pool will be the death of me.”Which Dad said at least a couple of times a week. Ten times the week after he'd read the TXU bill.“Goddamn pump, and that twitchy little Polaris. We should fill that pool with dirt and plant some trees and Asian…

Vulgarity

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suddenly she blurts out: “You are vulgar.” There is actually no perfect translation to it. “Bastos ka.” She meant I was vulgar, but also disgusting, distasteful, offensive, rude, salacious, obnoxious…

Outside Thunder Pallets

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Carl’s peculiarity of toilet paper rolls is not covered under the Americans with Disabilities Act – he’s looked it up.

Bad Monkey

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The hotel sits on the highest point in Shimla: a place of cedar-scented air, an aggressive monkey population, and summer houses left by the British Raj.

the writing of poetry

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We write poetry, but are unable to calm ourselves. We need more men of the world (like you) who are not too much amazed by experience. Men who can lead a dual life. Who have sexuality but remain detached, whole. The bodily, the sensual, easy give and ta

Melanie

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But now she was no longer the little girl.

Sorry Now

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You’ll say you should have known. You’ll blame my music.

Haiku for Jogging

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Haiku for Jogging

Secrets; Opening to "Woolgathering"

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Some of us, however, turn our secrets over in our souls, churning them with the fury of the howling winds of a January night. They are eroded and shaped and fine-tuned with the precision of a jeweler; the deeper and darker they are, the more brilliant of

Cat summoned for jury duty in Boston

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Cat summoned for jury duty in Boston Wayward hawk loose inside Library of Congress finally caught (God only knows what happened to the doves) Vacaville roof collapse blamed on bird droppings These are a few of my favorite things Piano mysterio

Andy on Bloomsday

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I wonder if regular nonfashion clothes are out forever, if these kids will ever dress normally like, you know, Phil Donahue, again.

Three Point Back (from epiphanyzine.com)

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“...you should have something moving around here.” Tracey looked around, then said, “Paul, you should get a cat.”