Stories
Poem of the Week
Absence rarely makes the heart grow fonder, or so my mother said.
Poem of the Week
Lunatics call it annihilation . . . Think of it as not doing a thing
Poem of the Week
Suddenly two would dart and clasp one another belly to belly.
Poetry
Tell her I put poison in the pot and I intend to watch her drink it.
Poetry
The walls pull apart like a troubled couple, finally deciding to hold.
Poetry
I want you enough to gnash you into a silence made from pieces of silver.
Poetry
My daddy used to yodel. That’s not all. He'd wear plaid shorts & guinea Ts.
Poetry
Two bikers, the bartender, me, and a skinny girl in skintight blue jeans.
Poetry
At night the voices on the patio sound like small darting birds.
Poetry
Years ago I wanted parallel lives, to see how it turns out for all of me.
Poetry
How large our muscles have to be to lift our wings even a single time.
Poetry
My brush an M-16, thirty-round clips for tubes of paint, all of them red.
Poetry
Even the busiest of businessmen are out for the count, paying the price.
Poetry
Soon everything here will be sopped up by time. Only art will last.
Poetry
There’s nowhere he can kiss where she hasn’t been kissed by the sun.
Poetry
A child no bigger than small change calls from her window j’ai faim.
