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…

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…

Meet 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

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.

Out the Window

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she lifted and threw her legs out the open side front window of the speeding auto

#likerain

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This is your mystery, your story Full of beauty and all-encompassing loveA brushstroke washes the canvas cleanYou start over with a new directionDreaming of me as you paint your wordsWriting just like Keats, Shelley and BrontëAbout sorrow, rain and the wheels of…