Most read stories

What They Heard

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There's nothing so new in the doing that it needs to be talked about in just spooky or secret ways, by you, me or anyone else tonight, but it might feel real good sometime and perfectly fine to hear…

We're Pieces of God & We've Found Each Other

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The gates going up and down like gigantic windshield wipers to let the existent boxcars pass. We went across these real bumpy railroad tracks into a town so small there wasn’t enough room for the car, so we got out and went ahe

On Discerning That a Woman Had a Nose Job Before He Met Her

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The new nose-- I won’t ask how much it cost, but something’s been lost.

Three Things Not to Think About

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Wait until you are home alone at last. Put the dog outside. Close the cat in the room down the hall, where you can't hear her mew to be let out. Turn off the television. Switch off any devices playing music. Take the phone off the hook. Turn your cell ph

Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Writers

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If you want a nice meal, writers take you to diners. They’re thinkin’ noirly, you want something finer.

Meeting A Praying Mantis

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A Praying Mantis clover to bright emerald green landed on my sleeve and lingered as I worked in my hay field.

The Guru

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He was journeying toward understanding of a higher truth so long lost.

Prairie Schooner

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The town is a wheel-less prairie schooner aground in a vast field of static

Off The Cuff

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Sometimes words are carved in stone, but you won't find these in this poem

Entering Massachusetts: Please Don't Hug the Republicans

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I omit the names not to protect the innocent--there aren't any--but because you've got better things to think about in the run-up to the Super Bowl, like does anybody ever pull Troy Polamalu's hair in a pile-up?

Intermezzo

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Outside, Santa Claus has put on cat eye sunglasses and lights a cigarette.

Go Ahead, Be the Opposite of Love

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"Living is easy with eyes closed/misunderstanding all you see.'--John Lennon That's an ache that's always inside me. How you'd rathertreat people as if they don't matteras much as some nice sounding words in a song. Their voicesas less than an annoying wind? Because…

The Pataphysical Tourist

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We all get in a carriage of tin and volcanic glass and go a-touring. We had quite an itinerary to fulfill, all of it loosely applied to the principle of serendipity. We toured Luxembourg and tossed pretzels to the bankers who did tricks for us, somersaults and complex…

The Third Time my Father Tried to Kill Me

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They sang and clapped and stomped shod feet on hardwood floor, the smell of man sweat and bomb-making thick as perfume.

The Strangest Touch is Skin on Skin

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Whitman touched his share of skin and didn’t think of it as sin, and yet could bring himself to say “What is more or less than a touch?”

Pink Tights, Tu-Tus and Schmaltzy Music

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And then I get a call from a different kind of bar They say you’re drunk on Cosmos and actin’ quite bizarre.

Cosmicatholiconfession

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My sister walked in the room while I read Ginsberg / reciting the lines to Jaweh & Allah Battle to myself /sweating in the heat contour of my ugly body on the bed / the room the stench of rottenhumanasscracksemen

With Egypt in Crisis, Biden Seeks Access to Intelligence Briefings

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"The President feels that Joe's talents are best used elsewhere," said White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs. "We had a lot of take-out orders to keep straight with everybody working late."

All of My Facebook Friends Are Gonna Be Strangers

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I once knew a guy named Ian from Manhattan Who liked looking at New Yorker fey cartoons.

The Here Here Here Lately

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electron metastasis

consolations from Cold Mountain

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not otherwise employed, writing verse,/ line by tenuous line the substance of pulse./ ―but no one collects unemployed verse:/ self-lacerations must yield blood, not ink.

Bowling

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I had a dream about being in a vintage alley that had bowling balls with adjustable relations to gravity

verses versus verses versus verses

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poetry less than poverty: / fair warning to poets, but a good sign.

Must've Done Something, Right?

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I hope you’re happy, she said. Fucker!

The Sweet Need to Dream

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We all ache for the Purple storm that’s said to Smear its finger in the one True place our soul resides On the road to delicate love Rising in the summer blood And the raw shadows Behind lust make a woman Heave in the Garden While lis

Gaze

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to think of him looking at me / for he to be I and I to be he / it is almost unbearable / to occupy two bodies at once—

World

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Making me hate language

What's Wrong with the World

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Everything's inflatable. Here we go. It's all plastic. Give it a rest, kid.You could say that I just want to enjoy nothing for now. But. Let's go ahead and buy into its precisely sealed with a rubber stamped kiss kind of survival rate statistic for…

Once the Excrement Encounters the Oscillating Rotary Air Circulator

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The film canister—with Camembert's thumb in it—was positively gouging her thighs now. When would they give up for the day and leave?

The Men on the Moon

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It was a gesture on their part, an act with meaning; they didn’t care about country or science; their love was their art, their art was their love.