1211 1 2
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I haven’t written a poem in months.
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121020
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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…
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121021
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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…
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121021
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She was a rich widow who lived down the street.
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121062
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The Keds-stubbed grass, toy trucks without wheels, and Band-aids threaded in the sand… Most parenting is vigilance. Seconds ahead of its own sound, a passenger jet spears the heights not far above the treetops, …
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121000
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My tongue lashes out like a whip.
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121041
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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…
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121021
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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
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121000
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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.
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121000
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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."
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121020
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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?” …
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1210127
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Nostalgia is
when memories
turn into Gods
of knowing who you were.
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1209139
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"covered in a sheen of sweat, flowers of salt bloom on my T-shirt"
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120934
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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…
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120900
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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…
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120984
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I now felt prepared to waltz under a K bullet that hits a stucco brick above the tropical hibiscus.
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1209115
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elton wrings the melody from the words into the silent but pulsing air
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120982
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Alright is alright but alright is a state of mind, right?
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120931
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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
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120961
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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.
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120973
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You had that quietness by nature (unusual in men) that I was attracted to. You were like some body of water, wide and more spiritual than anyone I knew. You could have taken me with you when you flew. I know you were more like a bird than any of the oth
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120910
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Your insincere smile,
eyes drowning in kohl.
Sweat and sweet talcum,
and the maroon cashmere stole.
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120885
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I do not think it good that you, any of you, know what I mean when I say “MIG arrangement.”
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120820
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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
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120865
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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…
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120820
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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.
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120831
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Crunching gravel beneath my feet, the sound of approaching death.
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120821
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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.
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1207138
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bones and shuttered windows
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120700
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I love her now, but I used hate her because she’d leave hairs on my bar of soap.
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