“Uncle Jay” and “Venom” appear in the latest issue (July 1, 2019 Vol 7) of The American Journal of Poetry “Lucky Bullets” is in Vol. xii, No.12 (April, 2019) of Third Wednesday. [...]
Although my body is an anchor, it’s beginning to float. The darkness is a dim, fragile music. When I speak, things unhappen. If you listen, carefully, you may hear voices in my skin. [...]
Cotton-Candy Pink At the laundromat, I can hold my breath for half-an-hour. I don’t know where one thought ends and another begins. Felicia has different colored wigs. One is cotton-candy [...]
In the front yard, sunburned, shirtless, Picasso mows the blue grass. The petulant scythe shaves close the lawn’s picture plane. The cloudless sky, is the color of a window. In the mind’s eye, [...]
Last night, the sky looked like a black lawn. I went to bed and had a fast dream. It might have meant something, I’m not sure. It’s hard work salvaging scrap metal from flying bullets. I don’t [...]
Long ago, when music was rectangular, I was voted by my senior class “most likely to survive capital punishment.” Of course, there are many different kinds of love. Some are angry fun, others, a [...]
I’m wearing flammable clothing. Also wearing the inflammable clothing. You can’t be too careful. Although it’s not posted, I’m driving the exact speed limit. It must have snowed last night, [...]
I had my doubts, so I followed myself around for a few days. Legally, I was within my rights. Like an angry mosquito, an invisible, persistent buzzing rang in my ears. It wouldn’t stop. Then I [...]
I’m the kind of person who water can’t wait to drown. Occasionally, I mistake an inanimate object for a pet, but no harm done. Thursday, I stopped by the funeral home, just briefly, to heckle. At [...]
I’ve never been accused of the reckless abandonment of a body, although I have twice donated mine to science. If you listen carefully to the apparatus of the clouds, you’ll hear the sky [...]
You left in July, and it was a pretty fast slide down the rung-less ladder, after that. By January, the bank took back the house, and I was living in my station wagon and working part-time for [...]
