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So You Want to Be a Poet

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You’re the girl that would sneak out to poetry readings instead of parties, watching fierce semi-bearded men reading their poems from hand-stapled zines.

Actual Reality

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Travel into the beautiful swirling being you occupy whenever you get the chance. It's your right to seek the name of the most holy one in your deepest awakening. Then will you most likely find fellow travelers splashing about in their naked auras in…

1740: My 7th Great-grandfather

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a half-moon hung straight up and down

Our Beautiful Sadly Revolving Broken Wheel of a Heart is Sleeping in a Ditch Somewhere

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The planet looks so peaceful from space doesn't it? Want a blue Gumball? Like a pancake batter with bluish dye mixed into Its big yellow bowl and carried out by a winking Victorian Butler. Like a bowling ball with just the right Weight for your…

Andalusia

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Andalusia I. partners in sunset the hawk and I in ballet ..............................he:..........the small flame in the wind ..............................I:............the last tremor of grace the…

"Brava! Brava!"

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I woke to a crash and the sound of coins rolling along the linoleum. “Mom?” She did not look up. Her shaking hand was gathering up the single crown coins, the fifty heller pieces. Triumphantly she rescued a ten crown note from the piggy bank shards. …

What Gorillas 'Talk' About When Gorillas 'Talk' About Love

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Eons later, Bobo evolves into Shakespeare. Bonus feature: wings.

Dreams-in-progress

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A team of reggae journalists played and an unknown man came after work for me in a kilt.

The Ungrateful Dead and the Human Resource Recovery and Refineries Act

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Incidents intensified. The Dead appeared in twos and threes at shopping mall and Wal-Mart parking lots.

Just Another Rainy Day

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Tasha loved to tease the rain. She sat still with her legs folded on the bench, never once looking the clouds in the eye.

Sunday Morning Series- 7: Sunday Morning Trifurcation

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Go diddle in the sand// to save some other sinner/ a death of stones.

There's a Hole in Your Shoe, Mr. Stevenson

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On a night in 1952 he walked her home in the freezing rain, past the nativity in front of St. Mark's, sharing his flask of schnapps. Look, my fingers are prunes, she said. He kissed her hands and said, Let's name our firstborn Adlai. She laughed and said, No. Dwight.…

Zeus Takes a Day Job

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That's demeaning enough, but not as hard to take as the customers. They're all jaded hipsters, thumb diddling smartphone freaks, pretending their online interactions actually count as relationships and that “tweets” are real conversations. It's sad, reall

Empty or Too Full?

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Assiduity Twenty Two

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Warning: reader beware, there's sex in the air.

G.

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The stand is designed to clasp two guitars, one on either side. She cradles an Ovation in her arms, a guitar variety our high school friends used to call a soup bowl. In the stand is an acoustic-electric hybrid that I toyed with for ten…

The Zilch Belches Out Its Own National Anthem To the Trendy Crowds

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" Not a day goes by/ that isn't stabbed with common sorrow"--Maurice Manning Crazy's alright by me if it's a harmless plea for some little sanity, or unavoidable by birth but it just won't do for tricks. Like say I go over there right…

More Abandoned Sentences

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By morning it was over. I crawled farther out onto the ledge. The three year old was screaming like Donald Duck. Trains ran into the night. Several pigs entered the open window.

Capital Offense

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They can’t exterminate the poor just yet

The Highwayman Teaches Me About Sex and Death

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hooves moon dark latch eyes rope / Bess the landlord's daughter, the landlord's blackeyed daughter / gun breasts dress shame shouts blood blood blood

Yeah, yeah, it takes two

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I'm rushing from the office, wanting to catch the 6.05, skittering down grey, commuter-laden streets, and I turn into the plaza and see the stupid fucking dancing couple. They are usually only there Fridays and weekends, catching the tourists on their way into Covent…

Tatters

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inside i know my heart rattles cause outside i'm only seeing that the truth is in tatters

The poet. Pt. 3

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I think I remember now why people write poetry.

Springtime

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Bert also said that somebody else at the meeting was complaining about his high blood pressure, and Bert repeated what Hank had said, that he was glad to have any blood pressure at all.

Lucky Strike

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I like the smoke going in but I like it even more when it's coming out

Out the Window

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she lifted and threw her legs out the open side front window of the speeding auto

AN HOUR EVERY AFTERNOON

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This is the only time she feels she can be herself.

Meditation on a Pomegranate

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Roots

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My grandmother didn't like fireworks much. She said they reminded her of the raids during the war, when everybody stayed in the tube tunnels at night, going in buckets and curling up on the tracks.

Balloon Seller

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...painted by my mother with meticulous attention...