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Saxsquatch
“Nights like these I wish I was dead,” she says and he nods assent knowing that could only be but about half true when she’s been known to exaggerate every now and then and how could she know what dead...
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You Got the Wrong Guy
No, no, don’t call me that, I told you, you got the wrong guy. He ain’t me, or I ain’t him, but either way, I’m not the man you’re looking for. No, no, it’s not up to you, heck, it’s not up to me. I am...
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Ekklesia
tell the history, tell the fall, tell the future from the assembly collecting in the guardrails half a dozen water bottles, the bright orange caps of gatorade emptied in their pursuit of health,...
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The Light has Returned (Sestina)
Beyond the pinpoint of midnight there is a light. And within that dollop of a spark there is heat, The flames jockeying for position on a red wick. From a hand protrudes a slender white candle That...
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Mourning Poem
death makes me want to shut down, shut up, shut in and be a child again; one who doesn’t understand what it meant when grandpa P passed and mom and dad said he’s in heaven, one who got excited for him...
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The World’s Only Ocean
All of us are interconnected. There are no boundary lines separating Pacific from Arctic the tremor of their waves, the Atlantic, the Indian. Do not think that the Aegean or Erie are distinct when...
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We Are All Monsters
A child of God. Yes, I know. But when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you. But when did the abyss get there? Did it begin there, grow there? Who put it there? And how long has the...
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Scars Meeting Scars
Scars meeting scars. While we were yet sinners. Squeeze and exhale. Release. Fall apart. One. Scars. In the hands. In the feet. The scar from the rib that was removed. The scar from the spear that...
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(Edgar Allan Poe) In My Pants
The Raven in my pants. The Black Cat in my pants. The Cask of Amontillado in my pants. A Descent into the Maelstrom in my pants. The Gold-Bug in my pants. Hop-Frog in my pants. The Imp of the Perverse...
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Boxes
I wake up, and pull back the covers in my box to the sound an alarm ringing on my box. I walk from my box into the box. I step into the box; soap and rinse. I open my coldbox to find something for...
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Prescient Children
We sat in the basement, my cousin and I, The prescient phrase, “one more year” exultant on our lips. We savored the imminence. One more year until he would have his driver’s license. What a long time...
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At Last
Where men are finished with their speeches and can finally hear God I hold my arms above my head and gravity pulls them down against my muscles And I can hear the earth spinning—all the groaning of...
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Bigger Better More
Robert Creely imitation— “The Warning” I wish my hands were bigger so that I could hold more of you; that my arms would grow longer to wrap around you like mummified linens. I wish I could exhume your...
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Way
there’s roadways, freeways, expressways, throughways & parkways don’t forget the airways, even the waterways. …anyway! maybe we should break away or getaway before things start looking thisaway:...
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Brewing Beer
—for Mike I can make a clone if you give me the right ingredients. Brewer: Me. As far as batch size is considered, taste my preferred draft first and if you like it enough, have as much as you want....
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Whitewater
On the sand it all makes sense: Lay flat, balance, position is important. Feet at the end of the stick, paddle out And paddle through the whitewater. I’ve got to go outside. I’ve got to go to the...
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God is Calling
The backlight is lit and flashing. The phone is rattling in my hand. But I wonder if I will answer? I see him in a hole in my sock. His peach-colored handiwork swirls Peek out into a fabric-less world...
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Crisp
According to etymology crisp is defined as meaning “to become brittle” though the use of brittle, I attest, would have to be its pejorative form. Brittle’s connotations suggest something less desirable...
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Surreptitious
The most common use of surreptitious is with the -ly suffix: Surreptitiously. But to use it as a noun, “He is surreptitious” is surely loquacious behavior. However, I’ve been more interested in the...
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Potholes and Panhandlers
If it has been said that we look like ants— after a long winter, we now look like bees. The way we bob and sway between potholes our vehicles doing a choreographed dodging dance. And the potholes, God...
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