Most read stories

#sgmusic

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We gig, we perform, we laugh, we cry, we play our guitars, bass, drums, voice.

The Parade

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I see them walking. They pass right by my house. If I’m outside, I sit down on our porch and watch the parade. Sometimes I watch them out of a front window.

The Vivid Dream

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I had a terribly vivid dream where a big leaf was talking to a baby, and the Mouseketeers had grown fat, and my lover was passing the healing comb through the hair of my soul during the night as she retouched my youth, so I could rejoin

Tatters

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inside i know my heart rattles cause outside i'm only seeing that the truth is in tatters

The Judge's Wife Part 8

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—You're convinced I'm crazy. I'm convinced you're incompetent.

the open road

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There are moments in life where it's like you're driving late at night and you should be on your way home but really you're just rolling along aimlessly through the city streets when suddenly you turn a corner and realize the road is open and empty for miles to come, a…

Karen

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Karen was a shy horse.

I Don't Know What This is About, But.

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Bent, crooked and straight, knifed.

The Dryad

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So into the woods we went, hoping to open a portal into the netherworld of make believe. I had a feeling we would see nothing, but she believed in me. At the very least I would spend a few very nice days backpacking in the wilderness.

Red Lady Octopus

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I hand one of them the octopus and run out of the room.

Me and Coleridge Take a Spin in the Phlegethon

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Like so many high school drugheads I warmed up to Coleridge because he was an dope fiend. If you want to get young men interested in poetry it helps if you lure them to the art through controlled substances.

Birds Fly

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Birds fly and people hurry in the wind and rain like it's a matter of pity.

"A Wedding Feast" (a lost parable of Jesus)

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There was much joy in Galilee, for it was not often that two marriages, not merely one, were celebrated in one ceremony.

Revenge poem for Sara, following her disparaging remarks about my unfamiliarity with the literary history of the East Coast

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In distant climes ’cross landlocked plains, where history digs still-shallow roots, From masonry a statue looms And in her arms gay pigeons roost.

In The Place Between - Conclusion

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You know what happened. You heard about it. We were considered unuseful to the Nazis and were gassed in those shower rooms. It was all over so quick; I had hardly a chance to understand. I really did not feel anything because before it was over, I, being

Beach Bird Bliss

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This day, oh, this day… shoved joy and gratitude in my face, then tossed in beauty and just a touch of grace. A Piping Plover set my sorrows by the side, nabbing morsels when it could, then racing from the tide. Junior Eagle perched…

egg

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concession to the shapes of hunger

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(no one need fear timidity in our tastes― / we like trying new things, no matter our hastes!)

Klout

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while you peed on that little old lady's begonias

B.U.N.N.I.

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Then I see her walking down the grass aisle: my assignment. She looks nothing like the image I have been trained with, but her identifier is strong.

At the Station on the Steppes

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The condemned, arrested/ and convicted as a consequence/ of cheerlessness, must be prepared

Roads Sign and Speech Acts

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Notice: No Trespassing. Warning: Falling Rock. Caution: Dangerous Curve. Declaration: I Love You.

Corrective Rejection

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I'm trying to make love to her but she wants to talk.

Left at the Tracks

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Shivering in the car, he watched his parents arguing under the porch light. He saw the smoking anger of their breath as they jabbed the cold air with accusatory fingers.

The Crossing

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His left hand is still clutching the blue Bic lighter in his pocket, rubbing it slowly but firmly. Anticipation is building, filling Theodore up like a combustible gas inside of a too-small container.

The Gravediggers

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The night before we dug John Clark's grave, my brother and I stood outside his windows and got an eyeful. Rose, his wife, should have closed the blinds. There she was in the arms of Willard, her neighbor, middle school science teacher. It was a serious…

Passing a Church

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Does God feel the same way / whenever you practice your indifference toward me

9/11 Memories

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She was just a small dog with a big heart.

from Abel, to a reproachful correspondent

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when you betrayed the vain ambition of my death,/I did not complain.

LOVE IS NOT THE ONLY THING

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When I was a very little girl—I was five—my mother and a black gentleman she was incarcerated with broke out of a mental institution and kidnapped me.