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Diamonds are for suckers
Diamonds are for the miserable at heart
Keep that in mind when you are busy
Puffing out your chest and
Slipping on your dancing shoes
We were about to witness the release of souls
From the captivity of flames
At th
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The porous bear the anchorite’s vial
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Maybe this very short story is about shyness. Maybe. I'm not sure.
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I am the Poet Laureate of my bedroom
I am the Poet Laureate of 6065 Chabot Road, Jokeland
I am the Poet Laureate of the Loser Café
I have wind in my shoes if not my hair
I am the Poet Laureate of Karmic Impulses
Of tabloids and gossip
I am
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Finding a soft pink blanket I prepared a place by the dirty window where he watched his world from a corner of his life.
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I got the news that you had died as I was
eating American chop suey, watching the Celtics.
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Elvis awoke in a cold, dank sweat, hungover from bourbon and bad dreams.
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accidental ground/
for index-fingered figures
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A patient with a B-Cup hygienists hears “The tissue is a little red around this back molar" as "I missed you in my little bed this morning."
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But there it was, amid the “junk” set to be thrown out with the rest of his childhood, opened accidentally to the page of his Indiana Jones Action Journal about his winter formal when he was sixteen.
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John held up his pistol and racked the slide to chamber a round. He told me that he knew a few things. He knew I'd knocked up Nikki. His girl. He knew I'd taken Nikki to the free clinic in Gresham. He knew I wasn't…
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In winter The Woods sleeps and the Woodsman comes. He collects the dead wood and makes coal. He nurses the injured animals and prepares the dying. He distributes the snow and regulates the temperature. In his fur hat…
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First of all, there was no snow. I seem to remember that. And there was no Christmas tree in the house.
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When the world is quiet, all your thoughts demand attention.
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You know how it is, one day a good friend sends you this long note telling you how-the-hell they are or aren't getting along in the frigging world
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Fold in the edges.
Careful.
Creases marked and thumbnail pressed.
Don’t look up.
Fold in the edges.
Concentrate.
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I don’t want to debate polemics while I’m sweaty and naked. I just want my hair cut.
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People tell me my personality is a drug. Could be. My shadow is a spine. And I have the current density of copper. A welcoming face. Opium eyes opium thumbs. The piccolo is parenthetical. …
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Winston Peacock had had a long day that New Year’s Eve of the final full year of his old life. There had been contemplation about the grave failures, the money lost. The third quarter of this past fiscal year had been especially dismal.
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In September she had been wise.
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Robot telephones me today...
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It was on the Fake News today, Oh boy
They built a bridge from Alaska to Siberia
Called the Bridge Over Troubled Waters
Instead of a wall
And Putin came riding bareback on a pink unicorn
Into the White House and renamed it
The White Horse,
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The water lapped against the sides of the small boat, their rhythm all that I could think of. Sweltering rays beat down, frying my flesh, the insipid salty breeze that occasionally stirred my only relief from it. Gulls circled overhead, like white ravens,
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The Bike Messenger on Lexington Avenue
Comes to rest
taking a moment
in the falling rain
slowly massaging the
veins at the top
of his bald head
Cracking his neck
while the yellow cabs start
honking behind him
Unwilling to mov
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“Your husband is an asshole, isn’t he?” he asks.
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Today I tweeteda picture ofmyself holding atampon. Yes,you read that correctly. It's strangethat we still talk aboutperiods in hushed tonesisn't it? Halfthe population goes throughit every month but it's notsomething we talk about openly.You know when you…
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When I met Gregor Samsa he was still a cockroach, erratic and skittish whenever the light came on. We often spoke in the dark. I empathized with the man. I mean bug. Ok. That isn't fair. You can't call a man a bug because he chirps and eats dried skin cells. A…
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As with the trouble with gambling, I managed to spend beyond my self-suggested limit at the farm while wanting to do little else. It became a chase for "money" (numbers like rubles) ...
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A man on the sidewalk dressed as a hot dog hits a triangle dinner bell with a clang and yells for everyone to come and eat at Hot Dog Hot Dog. We were feeling more like fish and chips or spicy pulled pork, but there's something about how…
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