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The Black Madonna

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They say I am filthy. On this high pillar I perch like a stuffed avian relic, flightless, no prey. The horizon before me is broken by scuff and foreign tongue, by atomized evil. Pleas, and there are many, are answered by the only prayer I know, the one prayer, which…

My First Love Messages Me On Facebook

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He tells me that he thinks he reached out as he needed healing and I wonder if I should diagnose him on the spot, explain what years of therapy taught me about him. I don't. Instead I compliment a photograph of the pot plants he grows, organic,

I

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I thought of you todayand what you put me throughthe time you saidwe couldn't rest.

the dreamer of eggs

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How much sucking, faithlessly, can there be? The body being a night thing off which steam rises, that attracts like a magnet or loadstone, whose curls attract, whose ringlets or tufts of touched hair between the legs glory up the nightly watched miracle,

Max Beckmann Poem

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the unutterable things of this world

Goodbye

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In the end, he knew he wasn’t going home.

One in the Numberless Series of Requiems

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We perform our chosen duty— naming/ beauties and atrocities within

Senior Center

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Some of the elderly men and women are coming forward....

Night Of The Ghouls

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The following is a true story. Though it happened 35 years ago, it happened last night too. Everyday a new convert is welcome, a new tapestry begun. A new hunger is born.

Bearable

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"Don't be dense."

Betsy

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Lester walked back into the house. He was hungry but didn’t know what he wanted to eat. Really, he couldn’t remember how to fix anything he wanted. He walked over to turn on the television, but couldn’t find the on/off button. Surely the damn thing had an

Induce Me

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Life's a beach? A bitch? Same thing.

Begonia {part nine}

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Miles away Coriander was stepping through the forest with a light but determined step. He was exhausted, but the terrors he imagined every time he pictured his beloved in the claws of a dragon were too intense to allow for sleep.

The memories lived in the house

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each act of creation is a jolt of expectation

The shoes of 9/11

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thunder striking in a pancake cumulative, his building bouncing upon itself, life going Richtor Scale, a billion pounds of panic per square second

Off the Record

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“In other words you're going to lie through your teeth..."

Donkey Kong

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Don’t get me wrong. Maria Shriver is hot, but her angled face makes me think a knife thrower is out to get me.

Excelsior - A Poem in 9 Parts (post 2 of 5)

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II. ByCoalport Your hair streams minarets across a bridge, The…

rewind...

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here’s the deal… sorrow follows tears… pain later for the happiness now… is the joy something we only borrow…?

A Martyr

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I've written of this and I've written of that, Have scriven as you have it either that or this: But if you strive against the wind when you decide to piss, They say, you'll find up firing against your hat- Like some old Brother who was broiled when…

Suicidal at Bed Time

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Some nights I want to take my father’s glock / and build my skull a sunroof.

Upwards, Into the White Eye Rising (Parts 1-3)

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The Argument: A couple of young female lovers, one slightly older than the other one, decide to part ways. The elder has contracted a terminal illness, and they decide the best way to part ways would be by joining together through a suicide pact.…

One Story Above the Boy in an Old Car

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Near dusk today a car backfired on the street beneath my office window

Where Does Love Come?

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He was rummaging through his giant pile of clothing on the floor, looking for something to wear to sleep. When he couldn't quite tell what was dirty and what was clean, he knew it was time for laundry. Just as he was going to…

Staying With Mattie

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I invited Henry to go out with me and Marge, suggesting he ask Ellen who he dated a while back and who still asked about him, but Henry shook his head “no” and said “out things” were just too boring at our ages — and besides, since his…

No Exit

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The bar was packed. Fascinated, Tom watched the shenanigans going on around him.

Some Things Can't Be Fixed

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Orchids strewn over the floor...

My Wife's Dream

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He was a Jack Russell terrier hanging like a baby in a carrier strapped to my chest He had all four legs wrapped around me and was licking me with his long tongue I asked him what his name was, and in a real low voice he said Min

Inner City

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This time he was dressed in a snap-brimmed hat, zoot suit with a gold chain and two-toned shoes; something out of a sad, lost Los Angeles past. I had no choice but to follow him as he walked down stairs that led to the Metro. We stood near one another,…

Smooth and Crunchy

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No freebies. You want to read it, you have to read all of it.