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Speaking to the Dead

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I didn't hear your last words or see your lasteyes. I didn't reach you in time, so I sat by your corpse,silently saying goodbye. I am in that process,not sour, not sweet, that yoked speaking which can't(because the heart won't let it) utter its whisperedlast word, but…

astral ages

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Life in astral circles

In Brief

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I can admire Falling Water and find Mr. Wright a complete shit.

Arrivals and Departures

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Because of her I got there early, and like I figured, the train was late.

A Small Life in Slices

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It’s Sunday- no need to shave-/ but shave, I do. A little act// of discipline in the discipline/ of routine.

Two Writers play Modern Warfare

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I watch as my character falls lifelessly to the ground. I press the square button and I am instantly revived.

Polyester Purgatory

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They line the bar beside me. Talking about themselves and estranged children, while rubbing necks and wrists, searching for the pulse.

Father Dunne's School for Wayward Boys #4

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I approached him slowly. His voice was soft and raspy. He said, "Kneel down my son, I've been expecting you."

postcards from penelope

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fun fact: a doll's legs will twitch while being scalped but only for just a little bit

The Sitzer

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Fred, who by that point had already wanted to call Jimmy "Jim," talked a river. Jimmy, who had already called her Freddy, took a mojo bag from his back pants pocket and asked her to write something that he could put inside.

Coleridge on Urine

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What a beautiful Thing / Urine is

Memories

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I stomped up the steps clearing my shoes of snow. I was wearing my Rooskie fur hat with the ear flaps, and I kept it on when I went inside.

Teleprompts

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In what appears to have been a coordinated, coast-to-coast attack, country clubs across America were attacked last night with firebombs and heavy contaminations of herbicides.

Antenna

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When I squint at her from across the table I can see the waveforms created by her carrier signal.

A Shadow on the Summer Sun

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Shadows are so admirable in film noir less so on x-rays and mammograms

The Days of The Olde Burying Yard

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“Phennias Jessup is his name. That’s his death’s head scroll, an hourglass, bats, spirals and angel’s wings on either side of the top part of the stone. "

The Duende

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Now he took his guitar in hand, and at once he felt a strange fiery sensation rise from the soles of his feet, to the palms of his hands, to the tips of his fingers: the Duende. It was that mystical force poets can sense, and no philosopher can explain.

Happy Columbus Day

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Oh to be young and vigorous.

Piggy Bank

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we had a million pennies

Starry Night

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I invited Van Gogh over for some drinks and a chat. I'm talking about Vincent.

Glowing Inhibition

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There will always be some who misread the dance

Tomorrow in Tonga

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What would you do today if you knew your time was up

Phenomenology- Short Stack

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The fly comes in against my will/ and hers. She would prefer/ the wider world with its piles of shit

Bitter Tide

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I loved without marriage and the men loved without divorce and we loved a twenty-four-year-old eating and how gracious she shone over a tame bottle of beer.

Trombones and Figs

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“What are you doing, Maestro?"

Safe

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She left knives and hot pots with handles akimbo. Like a guardian angel, he turned them in. Like an ungrateful Eve, she turned them back out.

Friendsgiving

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Everything would've been copasetic except about the time we got down there they put the turkey in the fryer..

Why We're Going to Eat Uncle John's Suicide for Breakfast, Tomorrow

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[Party!]

Year End Closeout

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At some point, indifference// will swallow the small gasps./ The appalling will become the norm.

To My Students, After Paris

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I will not tell you that your anger is wrong, child.