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rough and drafty

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One***Every morning is cruel. There is steam from his warm body revealing that I am holding glasses to ghosts, these old things bleeding me. We are two animals still and desiring salt.***Two***Loose magiccigarette smokehe devours one more womanwith his poacher's…

Four Brief Poems

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The eyes, luminous and large- each an infinite bright blue ocean Wind ruffles feathers My ego and vanity also/ encourage me not to wear a mask. An aberration/ that general circumstances/ will remedy, and soon.

Two Hundred Words

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These are two of the 100-word stories I've been writing lately.

Nola Visit

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The little Lady and I drove down to New Orleans to take in the Mardi Gras festivities we’d read so much about.

Two Summer Poems When I Wanted Three

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That summer...

Domestic Nonviolence

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His lover waves from the end of the driveway.

far beyond

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far beyond the far beyond sparkles the stars like sparkles

End Game

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Where the Story LiesEverybody wants to knowwhere the story lies. Does itlie in childhood? Does it liein old age? Does it lie in anangry outburst or a stingingrebuke? Does it lie in a momentof compassion or in the recognitionof calloused selfishness? Bruisedlove or…

With Eyes Closed

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I believe I will become a bear, snuggle up in a deep cave, coil myself inside my fur, close my eyes on hurting images, turn a deaf ear to the uproar of the world. Bolt my door to the deceiving voices outside. Sleep. Forget. Wait, as we wait for spring, for the violet and…

are you a life force?

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are you afraid sometimes, in the night, in the wind as it beats down your maelstrom thoughts?

Hard Times

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None of this is real, he says, and the path slopes down to a house that is possibly haunted. One always looks in such windows, one cannot not look at the predictable detritus of another's failure, a queer satisfaction, a fairy's dust. But no, not real, none of it. And…

The patient

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He switched off the light. His wife was breathing softly. At her bedside he told her of her friends the roses, of the pretty carnation brooch he had pinned on her silk scarf, of her coquettish hat which fitted her so well. Small, simple and bright memories the heavy night…

Grain Of Salt

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Carriages Wait In Long Rows

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She who is not a widow had once listened to the river repeat its story.

How the Monarchs Thrive

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Daryll said he wished he'd followed his tuba into the Raccoon River, plunged down below the ice, trapped, freezing, never again to surface... He reckoned freezing was the best way to go, gunshot the second.

There is a Sadness

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now I cannot shake. I am only one person. Thereis a sadness. I cannot understand. Fathom. Control. Manipulate. Detonate.I used to kiss her tenderly. Do you think this sadness is wise to us? Don't point that gun at me! There is a sadness. There is another war. Iam…

Even if I was a Fool

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I enjoy the walk through these crowded woods. It's good to be back among deeply seated young and old trees again. That familiar smell, you want to always savor it so very much, to not deny any of it. It smells like a blue sky, the…

March for Me

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A son packs his bag - bottled water, extra masks, and jerky. Mom paces behind him. “Don't go.”

Starting with Rodin’s The Walking Man

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then from the page this body stands

The Ballad of the Summer Grains

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It is a day of swallows and grasshoppers, of white clouds and suntanned arms. In the yellow field wheat ears burn, lit by fantasies. One of wheat, one of rye. Summer love, holiday love is in the air. Under the thickness of the harvest, their roots search, call each other.…

A Clean Tent

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“No,” he says. A simple lie. “I -” He pushes the sleeping bag off of his legs. Their getaway reset was a mistake.

In plague (o) veritas.

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...a falling forward that is sometimes so material that you get a look at your shoes as you fall past them...

This End of History: Day 94

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Crashing icons.

The Turkey and the Tall Tree

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The bench was set by the waterMarbleAnd dedicated to a man etched his name,the year he was born,and the year he died. She had been suffering from a dark narcolepsythat reflected off the cloudsa lightening bolt energylike a screwturn screw and wrench.Door…

prophecy of the playground

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they deafen you with cute / knive you with sugared songs / with machines turn love to silicon shit / hurl you at the god Fun / debrain you in their schools.

That Other Exchange between Timur the Scourge of God and ibn Khaldûn

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Just before the Mamluk army’s retreat from Damascus, ibn Khaldûn had learned of the new tower that Timur lately built just outside of Aleppo with the skulls of some twenty thousand former inhabitants.

Kneecapping the Muse

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In 1997, I was exploring a used bookstore in Camden, New Jersey, when I stumbled across a two-volume hardback copy of The Dictionary of the Khazars by Milorad Pavić, a book I had been meaning to read since it came out in 1984. At $10.00 for the set, I couldn't pass up…

The Passing of Great Dreams

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I think someone’s Got their foot On my foot Not holding me down But maybe helping to ground me It’s almost like they’re Tapping the top of my foot Now and then While listening to some kind of Internal music Tell me What part

The Dream to Build a City

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I tried to drain the ocean But only got a waterfall I tried to drain the sky But only got a thunderstorm I got lightning I got rain I had to build a city By blowing on the palm of my hand The sands rose up The dust blew away And all

An Interlude of Stephen Miller Thought

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If I have not heard of it it doesn't matter. My hearing is a life force.