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Weird Miracles(Exciting New Offer)

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The Eleven Best of Darryl Price, as chosen by Brian W.,dishwasher, music aficionado, tattoo historian,and poetry lover(off the grid but not off the griddle): 1. What I Find 2. The…

Souvenir

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Hours later, when I was on the phone trying to explain in broken Greek that I didn't have the money to pay damages, I started to retrace my steps from that souvenir shop I reduced to dust.

WOMAN DISPOSED OF

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sex trafficking

Layers on a Cold Night

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Later that night, he lay his shivering children in his own bed, the bed that betrayed and abandoned him just a few years ago. It will protect them now.

Pinus Timbre

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Ancient erections loom aloft ringed by decades centuries for some in gnarled scabs of pine.

"Forever You Will Be Mine"

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“Forever you will be mine” she said to me, and of course I did not believe her. She was a romantic and so was I, and such words habitually dripped out of her lovely mouth like honey from the comb, in a never-ending flow of flattery which I am ashamed to s

It makes no difference

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So I'll throw in ten.

A Look In the Mirror

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...That flash of horror as well as the lie that replaced it were mirrors of sorts and both told the truth.

A Life of My Own- 2

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He wanted me to learn the business, to become the son he always wanted but never had. I eagerly complied.

In the Faraway Places

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It was far away and I don't know how we arrived. There were people about that were involved in getting boats into the water or else playing sports games atop green hills. They told me I should go out in a boat with this guy and that he would take me around the island. I…

Confessions of a Latter-Day Computerholic

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Boy, it is weird out there, talking to real people!

Psycho Logic Deregulation

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" . . . the government works for the aliens now, taking over the world. That's why everything's so screwed up."

The Aunts

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My father's heart stumbles like a punch drunk fighter. I don't notice until I'm bending over him to help him up. He's lying a little down the hill from his truck, his door open, the motor still running. The…

be kind to your pieces…/torn

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Pieces that said shrug a shrug and then another and one to right with the eyes that squint and one to left with rhythm that never left. And piece after piece, after piece they stich themselves, née weave a tapestry that is the dance your very walk swayed

Grammaria

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With the sudden addition of a comma and a pronoun, the clause declared its independence.

House of Dreams

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The cat wound itself around Megan’s neck, its purring curling through Megan’s consciousness. She was the cat and then herself, both things at once.

The Raging River

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We'll all face the raging river, some sooner than others.

A hushed something

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Her skin is muddy earth/ I'd gladly play in.

Rising

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The coin, so little, the watch chain, the youth, the fading softening speech, each hand and finger, the panic modeled on your own eyes, the ashtray, certain stumps along the way, the long distance, the odd feather, the jazz rope gone,…

The Trust-Funders Take Over the Loser Cafe

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It was time to go sit outside in the sunlight with the gang of trust-funders, just to see what was new in the world of high finance and falling stock prices. “So, what's happening with the economy in China?” I asked. And they just stared at me as if I had

Her Own Age

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He had a country house, she said, but it was near the city. She said the house was about as old as he was and she loved it— from the wood-framed windows to the heavy wood doors... to the garden on the side of the house

Dürer’s Eve

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The consequences follow from here: the shine of forbidden knowing the apple soon offered to Adam the twined Serpent’s hidden fangs

Escaped Poems

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Sometimes my poems escape. They crawl out through my Wi-Fi connection, I suspect.

The First Fifth

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The first time that Beethoven’s Fifth was played, people ran into the streets.

He Brings Things Closer

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Behind the plastic kitchen, where the special children sometimes sit, a large boy in tight dungarees had grabbed Stephanie's hair in one fist.

Shluha Vokzal'naja (Train Station Whore)

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In my room is my младенец, I mean my little one. She is hungry, Sucking dry air. My молоко, that Says milk, is not good. I can’t make.

Necessary Heat

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What is writing, Rick B.? You appear in your photo to be more handsome than your first brother. Sudden memory appears: "Question mark? Curvy: cock. Exclamation! Stiff: prick."

over me

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What you may see initially could be only half the poem. The rest is hidden.

Rain Song at Summer’s End

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Soft rain, small rain, steady rain— what the shrubs and tangled young red oak tree need—

Liquid Sunset

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After work and wine, I Take some red food coloring and empty it Into my bath water. I submerge myself and open my eyes Like looking backwards at the world through A liquid sunset. I push myself under water, squeaking Feet…