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Malaise

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Endurance wears the soul thin.// The hour to succumb ticks ever closer.

Within You and Without You

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The cloudless sky/ amplifies the incompletion,/ clarifies the imperfections/ of the night’s normalcy-

Feast

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I watch the seagulls making their quacking noises

Only a Memory Away

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When Uncle Dan got sent to the Alzheimer's ward, the ladies licked their lips. Fresh meat.

Ants

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I don't know what happened to all the men. Used to wonder if they killed them all.

Missing Letter

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It's so far to get to where we aren't inthe way of someone's destructive progress.I'm only walking in my own gardensnow, but the big blue house is like an emptiedout envelope. I guess that makes this themissing letter. I don't know your heart's newaddress, but I once…

Shameful Maneuvers

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Most of the boys I pretended to marry thought my classroom seductions were funny, but there is a chance that one of the boys turned violent against me.

Dark Heart

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When we take Vengeance,/ shave and shower him,/ deodorize and scent him,/ clothe him in a starched shirt

A Release of Sorts

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For the new year, I´ve given up palm oil. Made shopping a whole lot harder. Damn orangutans tugging at my conscience.

The Dog

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The dog is reading. This morning, as every morning, the book is open in front of him. Well before his master's rise, he had already read the moon then dawn and the clouds. Now the slippers, these that walk here and there. Followed by coffee and the pages that turn. A little…

The Sharps

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How could a leaf be an accident?

Whyisthereaheavyweight?

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Why is there a heavy weight and a chain and a padlock in her woodstove? Because, she says to herself, slightly hysterically, because this is yet another thing that you must carry. Why? Because life is full of chains and padlocks and heavy weights. Hea

Brucey

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I kept my seat. Passengers packed in the aisle weren't moving and until they were, neither was I.

The City of Lights

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We argue on the way down. We bicker on the walk to the bistro. I get coffee and croissants at the bar and bring them back to our table, and she is still talking, proving me wrong, when I return.

Note from the wilderness

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It's a business, after all, all are quick to remind us. True dat, and the sun always rises in the east and sets in the west, and death and taxes...yup yup, we know. We get it.

BLAH BLAH

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I get out of the pitstop at the reststop, wade through parking lot hiphop. Hummers with Jesus Luvs George W bumper stickers, and a subdued slow hurricane of dour obese women in powder blue and tepid brown walking about the place like zombies. And I see t

maybe, in winter

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I will wrap up in quilts that still smell of summer sun

Snake Eyes

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Traveling with a live chicken on a city bus is an experience I hope never to repeat.

leave the dog, take the cannoli

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he who laughs last is probably a dumbass fuck

Short Fuse

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he scans the headlines of the tabloids as he waits to pay. “Dog Accidentally Shoots Man With His Own Gun, Elvis's Hidden Extraterrestrial Daughter, Swedish Man Bursts Into Flames on Train Platform.”

Roper RTW4640YQ1

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locking the door against dangerous// human curiosity and forgetfulness.

laundry

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She’d once read the Time-Life Encyclopedia on The Universe and became obsessed with the woman from Alabama who was singled out, by a rock from a far place, in her sleep.

The Color Spectrum Fiasco

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On the very day I was fired from Penn State, in 1971, I was also kidnapped by a short-lived underground student revolutionary group who spelled their own name wrong. They shoved me into the backdoor of a yellow rusted-out car on Atherton Street, blindfolded me. A…

The Last Thing

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The last thing I remember is falling below the water, lungs filling with liquid.

The Anguish of Easter

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I used to be so certain about right and wrong. About choices and their consequences. About heaven and hell and how there was no room in between no space in between no point in between (take that point how you will)

Danse Macabre

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Each day, they trot the coiffed/ and painted cadavers across the stage.

At the Revolution

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When we go to the streets/ we’ll have no guns

Three short-shorts

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Wake up! But it was already too late for Charles.

The Coming Cunts

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The first band I was ever in was called the Coming Cunts. Coming wasn’t spelled with a “u” because we thought the phrase would come off too transgressive.

Worry

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I turned on the television last night, and one of the networks had a segment about a girl with no nose.