Most recent stories

Missing Her

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When the teacher was out of the room Myron pretended to play with himself, saying, “down boy” and smiling to the nervous gasping and fake coughs from the other classmates and, since he's my close friend, I think he does silly stuff like this to contend with…

The Night Mayweather Took It

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It is not really about boxing.

Things That Should Be Blue

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Time to cough up phlegm.Cover up the feetGive up your stratagem.Find an empty seat. Cuckoos in their element.Parrots too.Best to hide your sentimentover things that should be blue, but instead are burning yellow,or oranges, or red.These…

Saga of the Sugar Ants

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They’re persistent, I’ll give them that. They keep coming. And coming and coming.

Waitress Hopping

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Or, today, when early summer sweated the long pants off every woman under the age of thirty. Did I notice the way you looked at them for one, two, three seconds; then didn't, partial to short-shorts. It was sly how you kept them in your line of sight, alm

Fear in a Handful of Dust / National Poetry Month 2015 30 Poems

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Fear in a Handful of Dust

Taking it Easy

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At the Winslow Funeral Home in Winslow, Arizona, just like in the Eagles’ 70s song “Take It Easy,” only I’m not taking it easy.

The Gravediggers

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The night before we dug John Clark's grave, my brother and I stood outside his windows and got an eyeful. Rose, his wife, should have closed the blinds. There she was in the arms of Willard, her neighbor, middle school science teacher. It was a serious…

Tube-a-Noodles (A Desperate Plea)

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I’m crouched behind my apartment window, practically going crazy.

Wallflower

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It was one of those weekday mornings in early spring when Marjorie and I could wander from chapel to chapter house with only security guards for company.

Granny's Reform School Weekend Intensive Workshop, Session One

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Being a grandparent is most joyous when deliberately subversive.

How It Went Bad With Horsepen

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You should never have believed your daddy when he said a man with half a dog was better off than a man with no dog at all.

The Street to Here

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poem

A Next Step

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The first night I met her we slow danced to George Strait songs for most of the evening and when we took a break, our talking went warm and well as we sat eating hot dogs and sipping beers until she dropped a couple of bombs, first, telling me she was married and then, that…

A Sometimes Niggling Notion

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A po'm

Hubbled

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The nearsighted world/ puts on its lenses

What I Really Wanted

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you can't always get what you want

This is Paradox

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Concupiscent you cling to a truth like a demon,but please, contain your self.By all means, exert, but once in a while,rest, the illusion of love is love and you have always known this, like cherriesand ice cream and pictures of Mount Fuji.One who has found yourself in a…

the waitress

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she smiled

5 Poems In The Shape Of Other Poems

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the things we will accomplish, the things we will leave to others

Solar

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Trollo Martinez was wearing a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses and an old LA Community College T-Shirt. He needed to find some water so he could down the 5milligram tab of Ritalin in the palm of his hand.

Intelligent Design

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Posit butterflies/ as evidence of heavenly design.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 12

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Frank was happy to leave the art show and take the train back to SoHo.

Suicide Consulting Hotline

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We exist to facilitate/ successful conclusions of hopeless lives.

Peterson Park

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The bungalow was unlocked. The screen door was unhooked. The trout on the counter was deboned.

77 Words About Saturday

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Another Saturday in April. Another set of scars.

Gyrle (n.) - Boy or girl

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Is it better to have a boy or a girl? That's not a rhetorical question. I'm really asking. When I was four, I used to wedge myself in between the wall and refrigerator and yell out, “Help! I'm stuck!” It was my mom's least favorite game. Meanwhile, half a

Not Good Enough

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So where does that leave me, Roscoe Loomis wondered, dismounting his silver, aluminum steed in his sweat-soaked, spandex outfit, and, clearing the saliva from his beard he walked over, checked and smiled, learning that the bike track's timing unit showed it was Roscoe's…

Of Roses and Hyacinths

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The blooms are practical/ and cannot see themselves

Poem for the Poet

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for Bill YarrowPoetry is a way of breathingagainst the enemy's chest withoutlosing consciousness again. Itis a ghost dance. Poetry is tobe determined by the plight of bees.Poetry is a waterfall ona mailing list. I've never tasteda finer whiskey than poetry.Poetry is half…