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Too Many Toys

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But the boy next door is worse than a dweeb; he's a prima donna and a bully and a little shit to boot. The divorce will only make him more.

Contract Love

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“If you guys ever get back together, I’d make him sign a contract.” I smiled, but cautioned, “Not sure that would work.” She answered with emphatic confidence, “You haven’t seen how good I am at writing contracts!"

At the Bend in the Road

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I was at the bend in the road thinking of Robert Frost but there was no fork, there was no yellow wood, there wasn’t even a horse to ask me why or what if There was no decision to be made just a thousand tourists from Prague

Snapshots

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On a street-lit night in Jeddah.

Saturdays with Satan: Satan Falls in Love

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“I'm in love,” Satan said to me cheerily. I could tell he was in a good mood. He was whistling as he came up my sidewalk. There was a spring in his step. He carried his mail tucked under his arm.“I'm in love,” he said …

An Elevator Door Opens

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What’s your favorite emotion? Mine is ripping the sky apart and standing on a star outside of time.

Tale from a Möbius Strip

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Francesca is a sweet girl and everything, but her incessant doting on Paolo is best left private . . .

Ice Cutter

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McMurdo Sound. Amundsen. Penguins huddled in a mass...

Fall Guy

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Friends of the bride feeling out of place like a church key at a wedding

Coyote Captured Outside Lower Manhattan Café

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I heard the patron yelling, “Hey, man! That’s my cappuccino!” when the young female snatched it and got away. But the police cornered her a few blocks away, licking the last bits of foam off her wiley whiskers. That’s how they knew they had

Edge of Wolf

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edge of wolf howls and howls past sunflowers and skeletons

Sunday Storms

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Poems reflect their poets. / Mine: ugly but loved. / It is just as well.

The Inspector Pays a Visit

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I'm not generally a believer. But I do sense things. I see things.

Perspicacity.

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I called it Nirvana and Elysium I called it Bountiful I called you to come forward Without counting.

March Madness

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“I’ll be damned,” he said. “I never knew where that was.”

Walking The World Alone

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Yeah I walk itWithout a companionOr friendI walk the world aloneIt seems right to meI don't like the moviesMost television showsOr most popular musicI walk the world aloneUnable to buildAn emotional attachmentWith anyoneI walk the world aloneWith beer as My…

Three Times, If I Count

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Once or twice, it was only once or twice. Three times, if I really count. And I wasn't giving or loving. And my self stayed hidden and I kept most of my clothes on.

The Ghost

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I wrapped my arms around each of them ran my hands over their face, and kissed their lips. "Why are they dreaming?" I asked.

Truth Or Consequence

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Mass media thought control, from consumer advertising to political sloganeering, is creating a new generation of irrational thinkers. If this trend continues, one day soon we may find ourselves under the control of some genius gone haywire.

from insomnia

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soap smells tangy, but/I wouldn’t eat it: scent and/nutrition diverge.

justice in obverse and reverse

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seriously: let defendants choose their coin, / execute their own calls, make their own coin flips― / attentive referee, no need for a court.

my first racist joke

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"There's a guy and he's standing at the edge of the Grand Canyon."

Girl Running Up Cherry Street, Looking For the Past

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I know I was hungry, she says to herself, maybe. I was hungry for what you had to offer. Your fast car, your dad’s ski boat, your prettiness, your beautiful mouth, your eyes, and yes for the joy you could give me between the legs. B

A Free Rinse

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“Turn the fucking thing off!” I yelled above the noise. “It’s fucking New Year’s morning!”

Admission

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I can’t hold a job I can’t hold a hammer

You Can Wear Skinny Jeans

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He looks at me again, this time glancing down at my skinny jeans, “And... are you a single mom?” he seems to think he has it right, taking a last look at my aquamarine colored pants and the tapered area around my calves.

City Meat

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Of red snappers, flaccid on porcelain slabs...

As Poetry Month Ends, Prosaic Types Get Their Turn

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“I’m going,” O’Bannon-Krim says with exasperation as she throws trinkets such as Dylan Thomas beer coozies and Edna St. Vincent Millay hair scrunchies into a cardboard box.

Text Adventure

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Twenty-two tornadoes tore through Toronto, spiraling steel and stone to the streets where she stood, texting her best friend.

Touchstone: Excerpt 2.

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The only promotion I can do. Excerpts from the most recent book.