Category: Poetry

Here are some Auto-suggested Smart Phone Poems, which are written using the Notes app available in most smart phones. To create these kinds of poems, open the Notes app and proceed to “add a note.”  The text editor that pops up not only offers a keyboa … Continue Reading

It’s winter and There are bees in you. They push their way out of The corners of your mouth When you grin, a driven mass. Bees in your eyes, they crawl Out of your ears like slow honey. Their bristle legs are sticky From the things between your teeth. … Continue Reading

He paints a picture with a slow precision Every stroke a product of his weighted thoughts He drags the brush across the canvas with a gasp and his breath rushes out making barely a whisper He is an artist who sits with one fist curled as he captures hi … Continue Reading

Not to bless, but desiccate instead the hot spit on lips shaping hate suddenly at center. The confused backing away, backs now together wanting a blessing on pins & posts, the placards & uncertain plans, questions, answers, the demands. Yes, a … Continue Reading

We came upon the overturned boat engulfed in catbrier, timbers rotting, far from any body of water. How had we missed it? Hardly any blue left on the hull. You were leaving me, I was leaving you, but neither of us had so declared. One thing we always d … Continue Reading

The mulberry tree in the garden still green in November understated in the red, gold chorus line lets go. Suddenly, without warning. Naked. A fury of large heart-shaped leaves applauds from the orchestra seats. Not a slow strip tease like Tempest Storm … Continue Reading

Mere feet from fire station, the Big Y thief burns an old couple in their bed. Cut throats, empty wallets, then burn. Mami shoves some chicken into microwave. Twenty minutes on high. Papi’s pollo scorches,her fingertips burn. Jahn Foundry explosion. No … Continue Reading

We are working in boxes stacked up on wire, pulling our eyes closer together. I’m writing you to confess to my failures as I brew in the cracked tea pot on the window sill, Teetering between the snow and a steamy room with two moon faces. Let’s have a … Continue Reading

We are working in boxes stacked up on wire, pulling our eyes closer together. I’m writing you to confess to my failures as I brew in the cracked tea pot on the window sill, Teetering between the snow and a steamy room with two moon faces. Let’s have a … Continue Reading

Like—who?—a Zennist Who is lit up by a chunk of the mundane— Shinkichi Takahashi eternally burning seeing the baby’s Turd afloat in the communal bath— I’m walking past the greyhounds’ owners’ house When a tinkling chord from their portico Boards me. I … Continue Reading

He had been in a hell of a fight like being kicked twenty times in the head. Of course, he would know, like that time coming out of Driscoll’s, fighting those three guys from the flats, the tall one saying, This stupid shit won’t stay down. But they ju … Continue Reading

In old age, parents flutter like moths at the edge of sight. You know they’ll be gone in the morning. They leave a smatter of wing-colored dust, tiny scales that don’t wash off. Are they waving a white flag? Am I? I remember once, I asked my father why … Continue Reading