Whether it’s a quake in the voice, or a full-bodied, let-the-neighbors-pause-in-their-well-carved-out-daily-routines wail is not the point. The point is that either one works. The clusterfuck of orphaned cables, the streets stamped with ghosts — everywhere is a hostile environment, crackling, kinetic. Asking a device to forget another device, a brief feeling of jealousy at theContinue reading “The Longest”
In the museum of our bones The keeper lights his nightly cigarette; His doctor says he must cut back And unlike us, he won’t mock fate. He leads a reverent life by day His mother’s bills are always paid His lawn and pubic hair are trim His children’s college funds undrained. His ex-wife can’t rememberContinue reading “In memory of Mikhail Ugarov”
The house I left is buttoned up tight tonight, its orphaned olive trees gone liquid in the wind. I’m a trespasser for even remembering.
Dear friends, subscribers, and people who take offense at my Guns n’ Roses references, I wanted to point out that the new poetry and essays archive is now available on this site. It doesn’t contain all of my poetry and essays. Just the stuff that I like most. Yeah, yeah, it’s presumptuous to self-publish poetry.Continue reading “NEW: poetry and essays archive”
Used to love him, had to kill him Didn’t drive the stake in deep His pale fist has just cracked the plywood Help. The worm wakes in the tinder, taxes are due on Friday Horses and children need new shoes this season It’s an inconvenient time for dying Though what time isn’t.