Great grandfather, I'm sorry you
drank boric acid and killed
yourself, it must have been a long
and miserable way to say to hell
with life. A confusing legacy
left to your succeeding kin
who thought maybe your
heart went boop, or
a streetcar called
No Desire wrote
your final
history.
Mar 20, 2024
Mar 20, 2024 at 8:13 AM UTC
They ask have we turned
the corner away from
hell toward sun
& lofty ideals?
I am no judge
open your
rosebud
eyes &
see.
Mar 25, 2021
Mar 25, 2021 at 8:40 AM UTC
Brother, this all you need to know about my life --
I live near a river where hawks **** & coyotes
run past with varments in their jaws
to be eaten-- fur, sinew
& bone.
Feb 28, 2021
Feb 28, 2021 at 10:29 AM UTC
Hair mottled like
an aged mare
she descends
the steps
one withered leg
dangles from
a purple dress like
a frost nipped
cornflower.
Oct 13, 2017
Oct 13, 2017 at 8:41 AM UTC
Woman with no
shoes and rag
dress, don't jump from the roof
of your three-story
apartment building,
wait until
it's on
fire.
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 6:01 PM UTC
From a straight back wooden chair, I see
a cyan-blue ceramic bowl filled with
tangerines next to a desktop radio
tuned to NPR &
out the kitchen bay window
birds bicker over seeds
overflowing a feeder,
& a raccoon scours
the earth below --
I keep in mind the fact
all of these things will
be absent from my
sight one
day.
Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 8:32 AM UTC
Your mediocre dog
does not partake in birthday
parties or attend weddings,
theatrical events
bar and bat mitzvahs
nor dabble in oil paint,
yet the pooch makes
the most out its twelve
years of life and appears
happy when compared
to the seven billion
humans on earth.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 10:18 AM UTC
The man who sleeps in the diner's back booth
will not care if your mother suffers from
plantar diabetic neuropathy, or that your
cousin read **** and gulps *****
No, trivial matters will not worry him
because he ****** himself dormant
after he awakens, that will be
his primary concern.
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 7:08 AM UTC
Five-thirty a.m., and I step
outside for the newspaper,
not four feet away
a raccoon sits like
a paunchy Buddha,
smiling as only
liars and sick
animals can.
I toss a half-eaten
bacon between its legs,
Pick up the paper,
back away.
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 7:15 AM UTC
Entangled in plastic
and fishing line
eyes pecked by
crows; a new
America.
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 8:35 AM UTC