Most read stories

Domestic Sketches

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The cats sniff at the small opening,/ one by one, in a furtive casualness./ They think the outside air is sweet

Almost There

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On the phone I asked my mother how she was doing. “I’m getting old,” she said. “Going slow. But getting there. I’m ninety-four!” My mother was always 94, when she was really 93. I remember she was 93 right after she turned 92. And 92

The New Lycanthropy

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Who remains after the aching night has departed into dawn and left us to week-old sleep

Letter Home

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The pen point sits motionless on the paper...

Hey, Boys, Bandits!

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I remember one time that summer I was with you (1964) going to a bar in maybe it was Melrose Park, or Northlake, or somewhere along Roosevelt Road closer to Chicago, not as far as Cicero though. I went there with a crazy gear-head named Roger Hudson, wh

Having

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I guess it was, you know, a daze thing: He, lightly drunk, turning red in parts of his head, in his cheeks mostly, and his chest, to which my eyes were drawn because of his v-neck douchebag shirt; and I, sleepy beyond belief, sustained like a zombie only

War Stories

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I told about the time during the early part of WW II when I shook hands with a member of the Flying Tigers. He was home on leave, and he stopped by to see my dad, who had been his scout master.

A Shower of Rain

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You have at least an intermittent belief.

Love Note to/ Legal Pads

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toe and hand-/ holds against/ the shear cliff

The Cowboy of My Heart

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I. The cowboy of my heart rides high in the saddle. Behind him, the long tail of his speeding palomino, golden — like the hair to the girls I was later to want so desperately — stands straight out from his sweating, muscular haunches. It's time.…

Hollywood

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I heard that Hollywood is remaking “Thelma and Louise” with Christina Ricci and that dark haired girl who worked on a show that plays on the television. I heard it either from the internet or from a dream. I thought about looking it up, but I don't…

Desire

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The young monk rose early to jog, his appetites trailing like cats in heat.

Cannabis Emerges, Rampant

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What the hell is going on out here!? Yelled the man with the shotgun

Licking Secrets Clean

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The mannequin’s blind eyes, open, green, serene, Look away from the cross, her hand Against our crotch, against Our suffering, our agony of being Alive and beating warm.

Day Off Work

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My time glass allocation nears its end.

Fur licking City Cats

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Howling, prowling, yowling Baby Dykes, stalkin' chicks, throwin' fits, takin' hits! A thousand thigh divin', rosebud nipped, fur licking dancin' cats, (Claws in, claws out! Yes!) sniffin' that cradle of love.

Brown Plastic Bag.

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[ADVERTISEMENT: If you look for it, Google search, for 'html special characters,' the UT Austin page will come up, and you can just Cut & Paste 'em. Fuck the code!]

The last sunny day. LUST

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I remember.

Sorrow

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It's not a funeral. Nobody to mourn over.

1. The Knife (or, Ignorance is Bliss)

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He showed me the knife, said it was his best friend. This knife is older than you, he said. Here, run your finger along its blade. Like this. He showed me how to do it.

Three : Sixteen

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We are a city of overworked workers.

Border Town Dawn/There's a Momentary Cloud (Reach for the Sky)

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Border town meant one thing; we were caught up real good in the middle of something preternaturally dangerous; and understanding was at the very least a hundred miles or so away in either direction. All I…

Self-possession

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Self-possession. He had it. In his arctic white t-shirt; blonde haired, broad shouldered, unburdened. “I will make you love me,” he had said, in a bar.

Survival

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When nothing's coming in All I have are fragments Cloudy memories Uncompleted projects Disappointments loom large and threaten to define me I am only as good as what I produce And now I feel empty So how do I shine How do I find the spark that…

getting there

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Seems hot for a Thursday, doesn’t it?

Sunday Storms

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Poems reflect their poets. / Mine: ugly but loved. / It is just as well.

When John Fell(Second Revised Version)

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"I still believe in love."--John Lennon It was war of the ancient order come to the farthest shore at last. No one leaves this world without an arrow through his heart. Why should I lie to you now? We all fight the truth in…

Sisters

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Jo was tailored, Amy was frivolous with ribbons and bows, Meg was plain and sensible; and Beth, who was ill and had no costume changes, wore the same nightgown throughout the dress-up session.

Scottish Independence

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with peaty aromatics, opened,/ and a welcomed sting, swallowed,

Zum is one instance of "um" herein

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Millennium jumped strumming lithium gum cumulative outnumber humiliated résumé jumpy instruments