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#2 Feeding Fire (Poetry)

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It is like truth on the battle field. Muted

Revenge poem for Sara, following her disparaging remarks about my unfamiliarity with the literary history of the East Coast

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In distant climes ’cross landlocked plains, where history digs still-shallow roots, From masonry a statue looms And in her arms gay pigeons roost.

A Day at the Fair

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“You just missed that last time,” the carney was saying as Sue Ellen walked up. “Give it one more try and I’ll bet you get your girl a big teddy bear. C’mon.”

Arcana Magi Zero Arc 3 - c.4

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Alysia stretched her left hand out at Kurai, and the electricity connected with her fingertips like beacon.

Winter Fire

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Snow is falling like ashes. I know they're hot and cold. One leaves black streaks on my cheeks, the other tears. Maybe the ashes were falling with the snow, not enough water to put out the fire, just to stir the embers. If you screamed I couldn't…

Always nervous

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and still every time I walked up there - so it can't be the cycling - I was nervous I would do it wrong

Startled by Towels

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I woke up when the smoke alarm insisted. Either the curtains were on fire or I hadn't changed the battery.

Confessional

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"On the podium at Pride, he owned that he'd loved taking his children to playgroup as he got to ogle all the breast-feeding mothers. "

OUR NEXT BREAK

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You welcome the new girl by putting a message on her back. I breathe harder until she pops or until you ask me what I’ve seen or until you see my hand turn into a fist.

Dr. Norm O. Pathy, M.D.

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He slumped forward, drooling into his lap.

The Earth Squeals

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Who knows how long I have been crouched here, tied down by kelp and thin vines, trading laments with animals? They all look terrified.

Mike

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“Hi, I'm Mike, and I don't wanna work ... Wanna play foos?”

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame must burn!

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This is a call to burn down the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. It is everything wrong with our culture boiled down to one location. Ground Zero of hypocrisy. The spot where the very spirit of rebellion has been stolen by corporate America.

Three Photos

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The first photo above shows plainly: five children dressed in suits and dresses. There are three girls. Each girl wears a yellow sundress with chiffon ribbons. The boys have been terrorizing them--the girls, not the dresses.

The Things I've Lost

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I might have avoided all of this trouble if. . .

Asleep on His Helmet

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He wore a jacket with just a letter; by this conspicuous reserve he hoped to show the others it didn’t matter what you did last year, only who you hit in the here and now, and how hard.

That Little Chin Beard

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I worked for Century 21 and wore a mustard-colored blazer with a crest and a tie and plaid mini-skirt like a little schoolgirl and it would turn on the husbands. It made them unusually horny. I purposely wore white bobby socks. They would corner me in t

Paul Steven Stone Goes Topless

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Breaking News: Noted local writer and very minor celebrity Paul Steven Stone joined a growing list of talentless wannabes to bare skin and a hint of nipple in a shameless attempt to draw attention to his current blog posting. When asked how far he would g

Self-Mutilation on Rise Among Motivational Speakers

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Doreen takes Butchie’s hand, steadies it in the can opener, counts “One-two-three”–and slams the chrome handle down.

My Back Hurts

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There’s a room Full of white And it smells Like bleach and Iron

The Parallel World of the Tango

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I dreamed I might one day become the numero uno tango singer in Boston.

A Good Wife

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"How did you know he was a nobody if you didn't look at him, eh? Did you raise your eyes and look him in the face? Are you my wife or a whore?"

Rediscovered

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Remain in repose, a little longer.

Can't Sleep But Very Tired

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I repeated your name like a mantra / and vomited black bile in the sink. / Some Buddhist monk told me / if I recite it ten thousand times / you will be mine.

The Days, the Weeks

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Next morning the thought crosses my mind of snapping Mom’s neck, making sure she’s dead, and then running down to the sea to drown myself.

tweaker

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my molars are dancing, tekka-tekking to the strung-out paint can groove of my heart.

The End.

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Liz lies in bed next to a stranger. He is snoring softly, and she turns her head toward him, looking at his eyelids flutter as he enters REM sleep. He stirs and rolls over on his side away from her. As he does so, he pulls part of the comforter with him, exposing her…

Lyz & Duncan

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This morning, my band mates discussed their relationship deal breakers.

happy hour

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I remember seeing five young losers standing outside this bar, smoking cigarettes in their baggy shorts and flip-flops, giving the occasional high-fives. They weren’t even eating their calzone, and I was getting upset about it. (I hadn’t eaten the whole

I Heard You Like the Back Seat Too, Honey: Song

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They met at a bar They didn’t get far They went to her car Then back to the bar He played guitar She was a rock star They met at a bar They didn’t get far Well, I heard you liked the back seat too, Honey I heard that you liked to h