Monthly Archives: July 2019

He took a right and two lefts. She took a right and a right and a right. He was standing with his buddies blocking the aisle she was trying to pass through. She said, “Ahem…”. He turned. Two breaths caught … Continue reading →

There is Intention, there is Plan even in the ran- dom rock and roll of a pin-ball. Flashing lights, whirling, bells and whistles, the signs of Will knocking us about till time is up and we rest, exhausted by the … Continue reading →

The following has nothing to do with poetry. It is going to be an essay when it is done. I may post it on FaceBook when I am finished. Maybe. I will try to organize my thoughts and make a … Continue reading →

It ended up I didn’t marry Mary Jo. Her giggling, flirting flaunts, her teasing temptations, broke the lure of her lovely breasts and the thrawl of her silky Cherokee hair draped across her shoulders, down her back, frilling that wonderful … Continue reading →

I’m not a “nature poet”, writing poems of green forests, deep and ominous or mighty river currents carving canyons through the centuries. I am a poet of back yards, surrounded by neighbors whose squabbles and bar-ba-ques are woven into my … Continue reading →

Dear God, I wish I was Jesus! I’d take that cross and all of it to walk the wards to heal by touch. It wouldn’t be much to suffer that Golgotha day to have seen a smile on a lepers … Continue reading →

I will not stretch as some do. I cannot reach that far to give just-cause to a young girl with an angel smile and a trache-flap wrapped in gauze, whose twisted hand I kissed in worship when she touched my … Continue reading →

Our little pond is tannen brown, an opaque curtain drawn against the sun. Between this dark, watery world and this bright, airy realm, the Heron hunts. His feathered wings and halo, twisted now into horns and twiggy feet, his former … Continue reading →

The sunny slid down the great blue gullet. Not a smooth slide, more choke than swallow, but not a fatal gag, rather like a bad joke botched by an amateur comedian, stammered and stuttered on open-mic-night down the street at … Continue reading →

Father was fifty, still strong, aware, viral, a womans mans-man, but never loyal enough to be a one-woman-man. I was twenty, a cocky college sophomore chocked full with new-found but unsubstantiated wisdom, habitually playing the fool. On Thanksgiving break from … Continue reading →