I started reading Henry Miller
because Ed Kowalcyzk told me to;
Pen and ink jeans
Threadbare discontent
I wore my nihilism
On my sleeve: clear, concise
...
I comply. Think about the Discovery Shop,
where I scratch through metal hangers
holding the skins of some other woman's
life. What buds and stems grew throug...
On our first date, I asked what you like to watch. You said hockey. You asked what I like to read. I told you books about romance and dragons and men with bat w...
Spy Wednesday/Maundy Thursday
performing in Los Angeles and in the Bowl
Annie Lenox Hollywood Starlet group
easter bunny and eggs and chocolate
bathing beau...
The last five minutes of dreams
Seems to give me the ending
I would want my movie to have
Always viewed through
An old distorted vhs
Like an old family h...
She saw him on Carson and confessed
she was madly in love
with his tangled black hair,
liner traced eyes, and lips
brushed with the same Cherry Red
she...
(a collaborative poem)
Lot#001 There are too many kinds of failed love to account for, but let’s try.
Rumor and hidden remorse nearly killed me. A jet lag...
But David, dear David, what if the margaritas are good—ok, not good, we’re at the mall after all, we’re not expecting miracles from our nation’s top mixologists...
I learn to distrust wealthy heirs,
their enviable bone structure.
I gather that a coma is just another word
for sleeping off a season,
and that even then,...
Every time I open a horizon, I find myself
on the brink of the kind of dreams
that you steal from a man
who only says I love you when he comes.
Yes, I am th...
It’s 2 years before you birth your 1st child,
17 years before your 1st mammogram,
25 years before your 1st hot flash,
27 years before the students you’re tea...
When punk – and I use these words advisedly – ass teenagers look with pity or disdain on the middle-aged, they might say I don't want to get old and fat like th...
Our father used to own a donut shop. Every morning, he would wake up to yearning dough. Did you make old-fashioneds or Long Johns, we ask. He doesn’t understand...
The stray mutt relieving himself
on the abandoned Christmas tree
would need to be three-legged
and the tree would need to be burned
or at least bent at a si...
Looks like someone has to rush ghosts back to existence for an indexed
appearance. You’re tentative in light of their approaches to portraiture.
What did t...
My head is so full of stuff
That my nightly brain dump (sleep)
Is not enough
My brain is drawn to media
Like a drowned camel to water
I am forever thirst...
question #1
a question on the problem with the question “what should we do ?”
the question that asks / calls for / entices someone to stand up with an ans...
& I’ve already pieced it out in my head: From inside the house, I can hear the horses neighing in the backyard, waiting for their buckets to be filled with ...
There, a small twinge in my armpit,
I’m sure it’s nothing bad,
It’s happened for the last three days
I try not to think of that.
I try not to think about
T...
In the quiet corners of my mind,
I stand alone, a solitary figure,
Caught in the crossfire of time,
A dance with destiny, both fierce and obscure.
I am th...
no one’s seen any-
thing cause there’s so much
to see and doom-
scrolling eases our thumbs
soft and calloused alike,
which is why I assume
no one’s bo...
the nights spent in your basement. blowing smoke
through a fan pointed out the window. your family
shuffling above. my feet off the end of
the shag rug, heel...
the tops of my thighs were burning in the sun
before jumping into cold brown water in my
underwear and someone’s dad’s extra shirt. they said,
don’t tell her...
