Most read stories

The Heart

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Oh, I cant stop singingThis human heart beatingWhat people say do not interest meAs much what goes on in their heartsThe heart is were they are really atNo matter what they saySome call it the IdSome call it the subconscious Some call in the willSome call it the…

Valentine query

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Did I flirt first?

Act Of Contrition

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I haven’t written a poem in months.

The Dummy Drop

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I looked at my now silent cell phone feeling like an idiot. Thad was standing next to me, that shit eating grin plastered on his face like gravy stains on an old shirt."So Genius Jones, what the fuck did he say to you?" asked Thad, sarcasm dripping onto the floor. "She blew…

Music and Books

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You're all I've got to keep me company, but it's a very fine company. So familiar, and warm as any cold digital fireplace. I can tell you've got more in your story, but it doesn't make you happy. I really do not feel well today. Fun I wanted to…

“Because a man has read a book does not mean he is a wise man”

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That night in the stable the three wise men were the only ones who had read books. All the rest became victims of circumstance. Characters amazing in their own right. To be written and talked about for centuries. Totally…

Seventy

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She was a rich widow who lived down the street.

Sarcasm

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My tongue lashes out like a whip.

Out in the Street

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As kids, we grew up in a city that we swore was suburbia. Nearly every street had a few houses with a kid or two that was missing their front teeth. There were kids we knew well and kids we'd wish we'd known but they lived a few…

American Soul

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At one time it appeared that Everyone was walking their own angel On a leash, but Now we're not that sure at all And it could come out in song That it might really be the angels Who’ve been walking us All along All this broken glass

2 Poems featuring A Century of Art

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"MAN S FEET HAVE GROWN/SO BIG THAT HE/FORGETS HIS LITTLENESS"--DON MARQUISA Century of Art by Darryl Price"Man's feet have grown so big that he forgets his littleness."--Don Marquis Everything in this chummy little place talks to your face without stopping to…

Five Million Yen: Chapter 44

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He found a small place on a side street, Bar Oiseaux Ésotérique. There was a sign on the door that read: Jazz Ce Soir: Giovanni Lezardino: Jazz grillé et sautés. Ben had met Lezardino at the Newport Jazz Festival last year.

Biblos Melas

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While laying in his hospital bed recovering from a minor heart attack, Professor Martin Hellman reads details of an ancient book he has been given for translation--Biblos Melas, or, the "Black Book." Excerpted from the forthcoming novel "Minion Web."

FIREWORKS

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It's eight fifteen in the morning, my favorite time to call, and a guy named Ernie DeCampo answers the door in his work pants and a t-shirt. “Good morning, Mr.De Campo,” I say. “Do you have any fireworks in your home?” …

Buena Vista Street

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Nostalgia is when memories turn into Gods of knowing who you were.

no-name time of day

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"covered in a sheen of sweat, flowers of salt bloom on my T-shirt"

Drunk, There are Cymbals for Everything

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On the way back from New Jersey this afternoon, my dad kept pressing “seek” on the radio dial so he could find WBLS, which we listened to last night, also on our way back from New Jersey. I was driving last night because I wanted to and because I think my dad…

Clockwhipped

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I now felt prepared to waltz under a K bullet that hits a stucco brick above the tropical hibiscus.

blowing

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elton wrings the melody from the words into the silent but pulsing air

77 Words About Nothing [5-24-2012]

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Alright is alright but alright is a state of mind, right?

Necessary Subterfuge

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I'm very worried that you'll find some reason to leave me so I tend to act overly assertive and dominant due to my insecurities but I hope you understand that this is for your own good and soon you'll know how much I love you

Intensive Seminar Helps Cat Poets Sharpen Their Claws

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With a notch in his ear from an honor-mad fight And a tail that is shorter than at last sunlight.

The Old Man

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The old man tied his black tie and put on a black beret. His bones hurt, but at ninety-two it was to be expected.

Fragments

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Your insincere smile, eyes drowning in kohl. Sweat and sweet talcum, and the maroon cashmere stole.

karmic youth

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We were so easy, so willing to be drained, that to start making those puffed-up stories about us now, our courage, etc. would be purely misleading. Put a bottle, or glass of wine in our hand, and our panties flew off, and gladly we would have followed y

MIG Arrangement

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I do not think it good that you, any of you, know what I mean when I say “MIG arrangement.”

Blueprint for a tale

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Remove with care, then slowly lay the string, wide well-soaked end at left-hand edge, to start, and allow to curve, to bend, to almost loop and wind its way at rest across the mottled, patterned green

The Parallel World of the Tango

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I dreamed I might one day become the numero uno tango singer in Boston.

Splitting

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Crunching gravel beneath my feet, the sound of approaching death.

Twilight Is Merely A Shade of Color

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Its edges fluttering in the dull breeze, today's town newspaper lay at my old feet, open to the obituary page.