Writer
Red Dress Blue Glasses and Cream Sweater All-Black Suit White Hair Red Jacket Blonde Turtle--Light Blue Floofy Black-on-Tan Lavender-Gray over Black White Hair and Beard Black Jacket Converse and Large Cuffs Sparkles on Red Socks Dark Plaid and Coif Suit and Tie, Sharp Red Tie and a Bald Spot Brown Curls and Necklace and a... Continue Reading →
You may find her in the heart of an island out at sea, giant leaves fanning her, little nymphs at her feet and when you find her you may bow to her, sing her songs, give her treats tokens she holds forever even after you leave, because you know you are destined to leave, to... Continue Reading →
And some leaves are already falling— not red, not orange, not yellow, nor beautiful but coarse, crinkly, and brown— and already the air feels cooler, the breeze crisper or was that just the placebo’s whisper? Yes, this is best: a cosmopolitan on the balcony the leaves of the trees obscuring the sun and your dog at... Continue Reading →
for Leslie King I Hey tickle tickle, the snail and the pickle The rat meows in bed. The street kitty barks, a rabid delight And the snail crawls all over it’s head! II One, two, “I like you.” Three, four, “Clothes on the floor.” Five, six, “Got nude pics?” Seven, eight, “He comes, you wait.”... Continue Reading →
You listen to classical music and to the cars which seem to carry the melodies of Moonlight Sonata right before your very ears. Even the construction workers beat in time. You remember a time that seems not so long ago, the goofy glasses from New Years Eve in year 2000, which seem ancient now along... Continue Reading →
1 Alfonso, Alfonso! King of the Night! Rest your head upon my bed, and never do take flight! Your mouth is all but wanting your eyes are full of spite so take me here! yes, take me now! to drown in love’s delight. 2 He dreamed of her hungry body, that surging bed of hair—... Continue Reading →
"The only true thoughts are those which do not grasp their own meaning." Adorno
I come to your house looking for you but find only your middle child seeking visions. I call you by your given name. You do not come out. The doors are unlocked and a mangey bird sits by the window you left open. It says, Camp out overnight! for surely the man enamored by darkness... Continue Reading →
O blood how could you be so apparent? Is it an Indian summer or the lover to my side, or— I pause to cover my head still, hands bluish a colony of blue a sky of breath beneath my gaze—the taste of my tranquil heart.
