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Skippy Goes Sailing

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I coughed a little. Some bloody fluid sloshed in the rubber tube coming from my chest. Outside my door some doctor was ranting. He was looking for the patient in the room across from mine. “She's in X-ray,” the nurse told him. “It's Friday,” he…

Just Yesterday

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midnight mooring

ice becomes a new marvel

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at all altitudes and at all latitudes / glaciers in furious melt: / both Greenland and Antarctica headed both / to be ice-free isles adrift / and with shorter coastlines amidst higher seas.

Buzzed By a Hummingbird

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Some tough young punk with dreadlocks Was walking down the sidewalk while texting And got frightened when he was buzzed By a hummingbird Saying “oh shit” He ducked, but then looked all around To make sure no one saw him Of course, I wa

The Witch in the Canyon

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There's a witch in Laurel Canyon.She made Wes a promise.Her bungalow smelled like Parliaments. Parliaments, garlic frying in olive oil. Parliaments, garlic frying in olive, and a freshly opened pack of Red Vines. Wes could have curled up into a ball and fallen asleep on her…

My Coyote

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I say her- it might be him-/ but from a distance I supply the details I prefer.

During My Daily Commute

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in moving cars i am small; in moving cars i am invisible.

Dateline: Dumbass

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Take a ride past Larry Crane’s 'Jackpot!' recording studio — right here! in the neighborhood! where Sleater-Kinney recorded 'One Beat' and Elliott Smith 'either/or' and Sarah Dougher 'The Walls Ablaze!' woo hoo! — and the kids are singing karaoke.

The Small Black Monkey

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Snow was whitening the prairies, the treetops, the roofs and the church. The village appeared dormant under its cold, sparkling covering. It was one of those winters when snow never seemed to melt away. There was a permanent look about it, a polar look.It was a school day.…

Gun Love

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That was the year I got my Daisy bee-bee gun for Christmas....

Cracks

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the cracks in the concrete look like rivers or highways crossing from the air but only a few feet below me

Women on Motorcycles

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Do you want this, you ask, and hand me a blue silk shirt of hers with small yellow flowers. I'm afraid to say no, in case it makes you remember all over again.

Intermission

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It’s so uncomfortable being an Angel in a sack

Fish Tales

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Billy's days were much like his yesterdays, with little hope the ones to come would be any different.

When again?

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will we begin again?We are a wheelFirst touchfirst kissfirst heatThey fade, disappear, come back again.Spokes in our wheel.When again shall we begin again?I hold you and feel myself spincaught in the whirlwind of thrill -the world, saturated with your scent.We hold each…

not Baudelaire's “Beauté”

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I charm as any stone-sculpted dream: / men grind themselves to dust on my breasts / in solitude poets spill and spew / enraptured of my adamant clay.

Pirate

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When I got out I didn't buya new suit of clothes, stepinto a bar, or bargainfor an hour with a whore.I walked from McGee Streetover to Russell and wonderedif Bus 16 still went out of its wayto loop around the traffic knotat the shopping mall. It'd drop you thereif you had…

Sunlight Falling Directly On Her Body

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The fine blond hairs lift slightly along the skin of your arms As you nod, listening to him. The veins On your arms standing up as well I was caught in an off moment because of your skin Because of the way moisture beads up on it The youthful fi

Round Dance

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Cold smoke from the crater Breathes on our eyelashes; The abysmal emptiness held Its breath just once.

Playing Pretend

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“Can I get apple juice and milk?” “Yes.” “And a chocolate shake?” “Will you finish all that and your food?” “Probably not.” “Still yes. Get whatever you want.” The waitress took the order. Along…

Counting the Stars

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Everybody's trying to just not get killed. Cut flowers. It's an illusion. The grand smell of our deathly beauty. They were so afraid of the ghost dance once upon a burning time that they decided on murder to get it to stop. Those were the days. That's…

Creator

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What purpose other than misery/ can cancer serve? And Parkinson's,/ AIDS, and STDs?

I AM "LAMB" TO HER

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My body is hollow, my mould made of concrete. There are no organs in me, no flesh or blood. I can't move. No muscles to allow motion. I look like a lamb but I'm not a real one, one that frolicks alongside its mother, suckles, enjoys freedom with its usual plaintive baaa.…

Spare Tire

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'What now!' he thought, like a goddamn idiot, chiding himself like a fool giving himself a slap upside the head. 'Last thing I need is a shootout!'

Notes

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just want to write a music note rap my hands all over my throat jump into the city to stay afloat gotta build me a damn big boat

Geek Squad

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Big hair shoulder pads hell no.

Hands

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the moment he started walking my hands were given new tasks to do:

le flâneur passed by worlds

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I’m wearied with these tired Potemkin façades / these elaborate gates for alleys all blind / worn out with walking into dead ends each time.

The Flower and the Sailboat

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She looked at the flowerthat grew through the stone hedgeon a cliffwhere the rockswere stacked to the edge of the water.It was a polka dot spot of fuchsia, Petals peeking through the green briar bush.On the bridge,Staring hard at the deep water,Ripples of blue that…

Alex

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When Alex says “sorry” in that barely disguised Canadian accent, we call him an asshole.