Not to...Witness such sufferingWatch as a life fades awayReceive the callAttend this funeralBe surrounded by well meaning family and friendsStand by helplessly as my father sobs in his brother's armsNotice the pain settle in my brother's eyesSee my grandparents' tortured,…

I’m not in the habit of just hanging out on the corner handing out “free stuff,” you know. I figured it was going to cost you. But I was wrong. It cost me instead. You can only float near the ceiling when you’ve become an emptied vessel. No hope or

There was this old guy named Ned. He swept floors. No one knew much about him. He'd been around for years sweeping the concrete floors of the hangar-sized buildings that housed the major mechanical service departments at an old amusement park.

I am not covetous for catnip, Nor care where I sleep at night. It irks me not who takes my Favorite chair, or swats me off a table.

I remember Freddie K bringing these fat Thai joints back with him from Viet Nam, and just one of those things would get us all so stoned at parties in Jolene’s upstairs apartment that we felt as if we could float down the long flight of stairs like we w

The family castle, Krivoklat, pronounced something like sheevoklat, where my maternal grandmother’s family ran a hotel, was founded in 1109 A.D. (how long our family ran the hotel business is anybody’s guess, taken over by the Nazi’s, then the C

“My name is Violet,” I add. I am trying to stop lying. Going without cigarettes has been easier.

one day the words will form an order, one day the words will make a rhyme, one day the words will make a meaning

The arid paramour, your breath is hot, dry, cedar. I sweat you corpus fluids and salt and the unnamably impure.

Friday afternoon. Angelique Brody knocked Francesco’s studio door.

Since Patty got the lumpectomy, she won’t sleep with anyone but Cal, because he was the one who went with her to the hospital and wasn’t surprised when he saw the scar.

I saw God sobbing in a wheelchair His legs didn't work and He had no hair I saw God sobbing in a wheelchair Nobody else was there Nobody stopped to stare Nobody seemed to care

a thinking man's bird high above coated with scent of life

Being an uncredited bonus composition, written in the sublimest access of divine afflatus this poet believes his lyric verse has ever known. “In olden times, dark was not counted fair”: Those were the words, I think, of some old poet. …

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