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You Don't Have to Read This

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I get it. Poetry is an effort. Language is an effort. Words are an effort. Reading words is an effort. A big effort. It takes energy. Attention. Focus. Who has that? Nobody. So truly. I mean it. You don't have to read this. If you're already reading this you can…

You Were This Close

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I don't know if we'll meet again in the sea of light. Circumstances aren't only up to human beings. After all maybe it's all drunk circumstance, but that doesn't answer the blinding question, it only poses some more. This is…


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I first met death in an alley.

Grace for Mao

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I greatly enjoyed imagining each wonton was one of my personal enemies and then biting it in half and pretending I could hear it screaming piteously as I chuckled and dragged out the chewing.

An Indirection

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The bones are chilled now, past/ invigorations of the coming spring// and its entanglements

3 Poems

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We have always been a trashy species./ We study ourselves by examining/ garbage-- a pile of mussel shells here,

The Thirteenth Sign

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I'm twelve again and

Feets You Fail Me

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San Bruno avenue, six shops in eight blocks. Those Vietnamese ladies thrive on the pedicure trade.

Abusive Lover

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I'm glad you're dead

The Evening News

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When I got home from work I parked my briefcase in the hall, acknowledged our dog and immediately went into the kitchen where wife, Sherry, was cooking supper. Without turning around at the sink, she said her usual, How was your day? I said, Fine, and yours? She turned…


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After the funeral there was a luncheon in the church basement.

Letter for K.

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the kind of thing that begins with a fist


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It shouldn’t take that long to count/ to six but when the six are cats, arithmetic/ assumes Heisenbergian properties/ as the objects counted defy the count.

Of Tongue and Cheek

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Our beautiful currencies and stamps/ disappear into the digital vortex/ of accelerated appetites.


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In my pocket, my fingers rubbed lint and thread together, a complete absence of coin.


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about killing

The balloon of you

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and the mass exceeds the buoyancy/ and gravity pulls you back,

Notes for a Life. In a Swing. No Wind to Speak of.

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Somewhere a banjo, somewhere a hound.


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“Easter’s coming,” my wife says. “Should I dress as a bunny or a chicken?” she asks. She means for the costume party.

Three Letter Word for Grief

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He wants me to squawk words at him in the middle of the night.


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Are you interested in a new account?

Nice Dream

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They must love me.

Fear Us, Oh Yes.

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Don’t mangle what is beautiful. Shut your pie hole if you can’t speak coherently.

The Thing About Dooley

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Dressed only in a Speedo and sneakers, he asked about my day.

A Nun Walks Into A Library...

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Library life is full of surprises.

The Model

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My art teacher hated Salvador Dali.


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On the bed he tickled her until she was crying with laughter. And then the tickles became caresses, the fingers, lips.

Train Whistles In Wintertime

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Train whistles in wintertime made him feel lonely.

The Tease

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She was sick and tired of marriage. She didn't want to be a mother, but now she was.

Tree Voices (revised)

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