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Samantha’s Note to Her Husband

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By February, I had decided, That you'd tear out my throat every morning if it meant your favorite song would play from my neck.

From "One of: A Family Miscellany"

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" History a nightmare from which I am trying to awake."

On the Way To

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Robbie’s wrists itched hard, the cord was sunk in so tight his hands were bordering now on blue, now purple. Too late to matter.

What's a Horse without a Loofah?

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A horse is a horse Of course, of course Unless it's a horse Without a Loofah You better look into the mirror Check the picture window too I may not be the only one Who's broken Don't it take a little more When I'm not with you? Don


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At the graveyard, the leaves had been raked into loose array....

To See Who's There

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Able to search through centuries, I click, scribble, skim,resurrect wet stone walls, the smell of burning peat.Bob's your uncle; Peggy's your aunt.Name your family, child. My brother said helloto Uncle Shirley and Aunt Greg. I was more…


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that's all you'll find.

Four from “Autobiographies”

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The white space beckons-/ a blank wall in a decrepit neighborhood-/ wishing to be decorated or defiled

In the Garden

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It will always be this way/ won’t it, she said. Me insecure, you unfaithful

Colonized Mike, Ch. 11: 'PLEASE FORGIVE ME'

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His Daddy had taught him well. And Tony Robbins.


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Over the years, his face began to alter


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In the neon light and barroom shadows,

I Got More Dog Than You

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My dog can conjugate verbs in French. He can fix your foreign car with a crescent wrench.

The Catcher and the Caught

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Like the swift night-black blue of a cormorant as it suddenly dips into a rush of white cold water,eyeing its possible food, we too sweepdown on what we think we see, rising wet sometimes with the reward,or hapless, dripping, we try again.


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When I'm gone, don't cry for me. I'll still converse with you in my own way. You won't see me anymore. I won't see you anymore. In some mysterious way we both will remember each other's image, you of me, I of you.As it so happens we're here only for a certain time. Short,…

Sex, Drugs & The Tao Te Ching

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The Dude asked Ed: "What about Love, Man?" Ed shrugged. "Love is just acceptance." Words that would change my life forever.

song of the love atheist

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"chemical", love is/as long as saccharine is/served in coffees sweet . . .

Broadway Joe Death Bed

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Balloon Seller

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...painted by my mother with meticulous attention...

Diptych for Saint Gertrude of Nivelles, Protectoress Against Mice, Rats, and Mental Illness

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So she set about eliminating the problem, all the time recalling some newsmagazine program she’d seen as a child: a discussion of hantavirus, nasty and deadly and spread by mice.

Birds and Beasts

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"Stop watching the news!Because the news contrives to frighten youTo make you feel small and aloneTo make you feel that your mind isn't your own"--MorrisseyThe world has gone crazy, but please let me make you One of my songs. You can eat it, if you want. It…

Three Short Poems

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no more trying to keep / the peace, no more trying / to keep every person happy. / Just this: no more.

Version - 2.0

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Pale like a tracing of a memory

Bodies Approaching Rest

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He hates this body no less now/ than he did at 14 for its pudginess/ and the hair that can’t conform

Die for the sunset

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we get back to discussing how long a year is although no one talks about what a woman is or a man and they are just there. rocking chairs rock. sitting and spinning, just like spider’s spin waiting for him – to make a coffee.

Make Not Thy Head a Grave

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the emergence of the Beatles and the Vietnam War sad human electricity no buzz of any wheel

Dead Poets

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The night was filled with voices and signals. Roads not taken reappeared. Driving past the anniversary of my death I passed a chipmunk

Of Life

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beware the slice of the knife cutting like a curious comet blasting through solar systems down the throat of the bad ass milky way

Blurred Waters

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He was a boy then, barely ten, when he sat on the edge of the pond, watched the ducks swim, made intermittent ricochets. He didn't exactly know what had come over him that day. Whether it had been premeditated and meant to hurt. Or just an impulse of the moment,…

The Work of Constant Rising

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When did the air become warning?That clairvoyant delft and Delphic sky.What strange and ardent premonitionheld sway? Where were we goingbefore this hard work of constant falling?We were catching cabs and making breakfast,ironing, cursing late trains; hoping the deal…