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Two Poems:With the Whole Crowd/Apparently So

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With the whole bizarre crowd surrounding us like birds on shit covered cliffs, offering up a bowl full of choppy seas to the many bored and stuffed sky gods, we danced our way into all their hard shell covered hearts as one thing. Still they never knew our hiding …

A Boy

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You said it was easier when you were ten and could play Risk with a girl and it was a game, not foreplay.

Po-cash

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“Black is up, red is down,” I said, knowing he turned to pleasant memories of lawbreaking when he felt discouraged. I asked him to meet me for coffee. He said he hadn’t bought a coffee in a year.

Ghost writing

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'This dude’s whole life must be in this book. It’s like, a man diary.' The thought makes her laugh.

1st and Goal

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My grandfather was ninety three. My mother was sixty three. I was thirty three. My daughter had just turned three. Our ages were all lined up like the beauty marks on Snow White in the Donald Barthelme version of the story.

Pretty

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Is it victory or madness

Trip the Rime

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politics only add to assault and distract

Keys

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life, bro/bra

Counter intuit

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I I I I

Gay Paree

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I had a crappy room on the fourth floor of a crappy hotel.

August, now and after

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I'll see her this fall, a redhead in camo

The bamboo stick

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I no longer go for walks without my bamboo stick. Tightly held in my hand, thin and light, it beats the invisible particles which try to land on me and bite. My face is hidden as in shame under a rough gag, my hands are getting rusty, missing the touch of other hands. My…

The Hangman's Poor Gift

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of placing the rope just so; of settling the veil with care --

The Commodore

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The commodore drives a 67 Caddy rag top All fin and boatish power

He knows better

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It’s time to let her go.

Dad and the Red Light

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The light turns green.

Jail Bait

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Jessie and Hannah drop mescaline together, and screw in an abandoned storefront crash pad. We call it the Rock Shop.

Childbed (cenotaph song)

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Those who don’t die, desire, descend. No song aloft arises from my irk. The seeing chieftain, not of sea, nor sand, nor boat, I till nightfall stammer alive, dig boneless trenches against tiding dregs and lathe, hunt, wallow, plow the hours, call in awei

Phenomenology

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The universe is churn-

Or Do You Love It?

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published in The Doctor T.J. Eckleburg Review.

Banana Republic

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I would love to believe that this poem might sell a poetry book

maggots are small minutes in the trash i saw them

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maggots are small minutes in the trash i saw them

You May Be

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beautiful, but you don't own beauty. You may be sexy, but you don't own desire. You may be smart, but you don't own wisdom. You may be good and kind, but you don't own love. You may like trees, but you don't own the forest. You may like to…

Indulgence

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I crave the confines of the convent

Écriture de la chatte

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YKK is a zipper manufacturer whose initials stand for Yoshida Kōgyō Kabushikigaisha. A boy told me (and I believed as a child) that YKK was my name in code.

The Poisoning

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The Poisoning I used to call my dad Serpico. Thirty years on the police force, and though a respected officer, he never fit in. He never had beers with the guys at the end of a shift or engaged in the more lewd locker room talk. None of the other cops were privy to which…

Your house, after the electricity is gone

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Shred the roses he posted, fling the petals like slideshows of storms.

Assessing Beauty

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We can’t be sure. Perhaps it is/ some slight exaggeration of one/ or several elements that steals our breath.

heart-shaped stones

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heart-shaped stones love, devotion no way

Forecast for Mid-December

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In the next week or two, the red oak/ will loose and lose its leaves