Most recent stories

Teddy

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I'd had way too many drinks. My legs were quivering. Everyone had gathered there in the kitchen, my sleek and attractive ex-wife the center of attention, all the men fucking drooling over her. Seems she was a yoga queen now, a vegan princess, a dancer somewhere. She…

ps . . .

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with letters of your choosing

As She Sat Waiting

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IN the waiting room Maggie watched Joe rise and shuffle his best shoes towards the doctor's door. Standing, he seemed frailer, so frail she felt guilty for having given him a push on the bus step. Other pushes came to annoy her. But before she actually felt the pain of…

Darryl Price, Your Happy-Go-Lucky Poet

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"Time is an ocean, but it ends at the shore. You may not see me tomorrow."--Bob DylanThey're writing poems, but not for me. Guess I'll write one of my own. For nobody I know now. It's a pretty lonely world for someone who sings, not you, not with…

There's Really Only Space For One Here

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i hope that day comes sooner rather than later.

The looking glass predator

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In the mirror an owl staring you in the face once again,/a fraught fragment of life’s puzzle. But you pretend it’s. . . .

Die for the sunset

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You say very little when all is ready, the coffee and all, and afterward, during the ride, and even less as suddenly thirteen women pile in.

My Plumber

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It sounds so good.

my love for you

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my love for you/ is like the falling snow

Remembering Daffodils

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the burning thrusts/ of yellow in defiance of the frost

Nadja on Nadja -- an excerpt

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"I would like my pictures to look as if a human being had passed between them, like a snail, leaving a trail of the human presence, memory trace of past events, as the snail leaves its slime." Francis bacon “Feminine …

CBGB

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Lou Reed was sitting in CBGB, I was sitting on Greenwich Ave. and West 10th street. I didn't know him then and I didn't know him later either, but we were both there.

This Bud’s For You

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I suspect I’ll make the right decision.

Warning:

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Warning: The cure for laughter is only temporary

How To Move

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You move, tracing the back of the ear to the corner of the mouth with the forefinger to another's face. Trace the line back to capture the construct. Pull an unseen quarter from behind the ear of a child. Go back the way you came following the footprints you left there.This…

Valentine

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XO

Where There Be Monsters

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“C'mon Billy, don't be s-s-s-s-scared.' said the voice coming from under the bed. Billy looked over the side and saw a pale white, bony right hand with it's forefinger beckoning him protruding out from below. The nails were yellowed and cracked. And long. Very, very…

ruination rumination

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a ruminating marsupial? if so,/ I guess I’d be a kangaroo, the cud soured/ and pasted to the tongue . . .

Arcana Magi Cross: Kame's Song

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The waves assisted in pushing him forward, until he reached the dry sand. He saw a small resort town ahead. The lights were out in the businesses and homes.

Born of Flight

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I can walk among words, Scatter them like birds, to compose two thirds of a poem, when they settle on nearby wires, in an order inspiring wonder. What do they think, when I scatter them asunder. Bring them disarray, Shape them to a…

Barrier Island

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At the beach house

Happy Valentine's Day From Your Librarian

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Is every librarian a poet at heart? I don't know, but a group of librarians recently put their heads together and came up with these library-themed Valentine's Day poems: Roses are red Your book's overdue You've had it for months Which is…

The Dork Shoe

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A strange man tapped my door and held up the shoes for me to see. “It is the Dork Shoe,” he said. I looked past him at his dusty station wagon filled with boxes. “I have your size right here.” I observed the halo of his gray hair as he…

Future Children As Rocks

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I feel like I should tell you things about strength.

Precisely

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Is it my imagination, or is her chair afraid of her?

Self Portrait Without Colors

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I am the ritual/ banalities of days numbered,/ numberless, and numb.

Dingo-Yodel-Ay-Eee-Ooo

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Loosely based on a true story.

Son of a Bitch

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.

Abandonment and Abundance

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I’m living at the Edge of Graffiti And yet I still survive Because I walked across the line Separating me from the rest of mankind You can see me out here I’m in so much pain All that’s written on my face I think it’s pretty plain

Let’s Swing

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You don’t want to tango with me, she said.