mourning, I thought
my puzzle pieces
fit together
with no seams.
But then I found
the letter
he wrote before
he left us.
I’m not as tough
as I would like to be.
Something...
i was 13
on a
Halloween night,
and me
and my friends
were out stealing pumpkins
off
porches
in a
great big night
of smash and run and
nobody ever chased us except
this
one old man
who...
When the mountain is dismantled
from eons of wind and rain,
how can I say it’s gone?
When it has fondly spread itself
throughout this earth
re-shaping the terrain.
When...
you can see a trail
of thrift store treasures
asking for another chance,
shelter kittens mewing
for you to take them home.
You, an empty cardboard box
battered, holes taped...
trash day
I’m always a little saddened on trash day—
the accumulations of a lifetime
tossed on the tree lawn naked and broken
for your neighbors' viewing enjoyment
and...
it's quiet
inside the black iron fencing
and ornamental gate
tending a small plot
of perennials
while speaking
the silent parlance
of inscribed stone
when what is
and what was
fondly hold hands
in rumination.
the british love
of aching lawns
stretching out in
suburban paradises
aching to gardeners
the garden cities laze
criss-crossing patterns
in the pools of your
tracing lawns of aching
the british love to...
I’m sitting at a table in the alley
awkwardly talking to strangers
about all these poems I have written
young people, old people
smiling, staring, looking down, fidgeting
carrying...
A woman sits beside me
on the park bench, she
has snow white hair and
wrinkled pixie-face
and deep sea blue eyes
she is waiting for the
bus, she says
to...
knew
his poems
weren’t going to change anything
or
move anyone,
but
he kept on writing,
even when
the bills came due,
his
friends gave up
and the
dust on the table
was thick enough for him
to...
1-1/2 cups ice cream
½ cup milk
2 overdue bills
1 layoff notice
1 voicemail threatening divorce
1 note from creepy neighbor slipped under the door
3 days of no...
ANDREW JACKSON IS MY PIMP
it takes exactly 4 beers
before I will approach
strippers
with my $20
for a lap dance
you'd think I was
asking a girl to prom
I’m...
I was on the fading edge of wakefulness when
he told me he bought a handgun—
then asked
does that bother you?
I hesitantly answered no-
but honestly?
it had...
five years
she starts with i've missed you
and an old photograph
left leg slightly contorted
painting her toenails
a slip of ivory panties
innocence of a remaining bare nail
under...
After reading "God's Inkwell"
by Jan Harper
The night spills out,
it seems,
on whatever plane
we dream.
It lives and dies
in living things,
is poured or drained
from lips that sing
The...
I made a list
who to shoot first
my fuck-you gun
fully loaded
I lost my list
no order now
so step right up
fuck yous for free
fuck you racists
fuck you...
the other night
I coughed so hard
I blacked out
I enjoyed it
because for
a few seconds
I got a break
it was horrible
coming back
tho—
like being born
out of a woman’s...
I was on the fading edge of wakefulness when
he told me he bought a handgun—
then asked
does that bother you?
I hesitantly answered no—
but honestly?
it had...
Always backfires.
Better be a bastard
To everyone,
Gaining respect
And recognition,
Not to mention
A phantom lover,
Since for you
Love is the acceptance
Of mutual abuse,
A cancer,
Whether benign
Or malignant,
Eating away
The core...
William:
capitalist
fraud
like your
sister—all
love and light
broadcast podcast
of pillaged
Eastern
wisdom
pawned on
women in
two hundred dollar
yoga pants
with extra
ass padding
and a scent guard
crotch
acrobatic fuck
he is spent
but my energy is still
buzzing
I never...
As I lie
the hand strokes
smooth
as the inside
of a girl’s thigh
touched
And yes
the hard flesh
handed
tracking these sheets is
lonely
as the sun-warmed
beach sand brushed
from her body
softly
As I alone
stand...
Pink amoeba,
puddle of puke
on a sour sidewalk
at four in the morning;
rejected
booze and bar food,
violent explosion
of shots
and wings;
last call
for night birds.
I am higher
on the evolutionary scale.
I will not ask you
to shave my back.
My cutting-edge
smooth cheeks
will not scratch you
when we nuzzle.
My highly developed
hairless chest
will not...
I just got a rejection
I checked the status
of my submission
and it said "rejected"
I had been checking and checking the status
and it had kept saying...
The directions
on the shampoo bottle:
“Wet hair thoroughly
before applying.”
Someone got paid for that?
Why not me?
Here’s my resume.
Published Poet.
Will work for food.
no one takes any notice of me,
if I speak my truth
it’s just a junkie garbling
nonsense
a disease carrying scum
chasing tracks
another fuckin’ wino, soiling
his pants,
watching clouds
roll...
the
publication
of my latest book,
i looked at the short stack
of poems that remained in a pile on my desk.
i
threw
them out.
free,
at last,
i turned
to the keyboard
and
smiled.
had
a tooth
missing in front,
and when she talked,
it
made
a whistle.
Peggy Whistle was 43,
loved Scotch,
and
worked nights
at the D&J Diner.
she
also loved
her little dog, Blue.
Blue
came to
work with her
and slept...
publishers
is retired
and living in France.
he’s on his second wife and
lives on
a farm in the country.
every now and then
he sends me
these long, long
e-mails talking about...
Those who say
they have no regrets
are fucking liars
& the people
who believe them
are fucking stupid.
Regret free,
fucking liars lie
to themselves
because they are so
fucked up they can’t...
Mary's brother, Ethan, is intrigue
through a secret splinter. I gawk
at him sketching his hands
while his ears pour wire.
He would taste me. But I'm in...
I don't know if the guy sitting next to me
heard me try to apologize for accidentally
moving his car magazines and taking his spot
obnoxious hrrr of the...
Big Jake’s jamoke
is almost bigger than he is,
& it’s smarter, too, or
so goes the standing joke.
& the oft repeated story,
his winky
has a tear tattoo
dripping...
back in the 70s
back in LA
I knew of him
as the uncouth Christ
of the drunk-again alcoholics
the naked emperor
of young trendy-cafe chefs and
of the intellectual
and the...
I came there because nothing was happening
so did everybody else
and this is what transpired...
seeds
praying
somewhere in the hard gravel of Exxon
like quicksand
ex cons
they got away...
Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.
The recurring theme of the 'plasti' poets.
Millions sitting in ill-fitting poetry sites,
and vacuum-laden forums making
hydrogenated-fatty comments broadcast
through a dispassionate, torpid ether,
or stuffed...
another fucking boring night
of light blue ripples of poolwater
dumb white lights
over steam haze black night snooze
and what's left of the cheap beer
my wife's been...
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