The Dog and I as Well as Some Sounds

one dreamy spring day I looked into brilliant eyes of my pal-dog into his tender ocular dominance of eternity so that my gentle poem was in the soul…


“Mall of America,” “Literary Property,” “Where There’s Smoke,” and Other Poems

Mall of America In America, even the old are expected to work. No rest for the wicked. Even in retirement, one goes to bed exhausted. There’s no…


“Mefloquine Nightmares,” “Sunset at the Cafe del Mar,” and “Cross-Country”

Mefloquine Nightmares 21 days to leave the system is what they told us all; then why, years after, do the dark, lonely nights of terror still…


“Unattended,” “A Gambit Afloat,” “Your Feather,” and “Norm”

Unattended As noon approaches, the tireless hands of my wall clock freeze and I think I have all the time in the world to fancy a time without you.…


In the Memory Palace

The memory palace is a mnemonic device introduced in ancient Roman and Greek rhetorical treatises (in the anonymous Rhetorica ad Herennium, Cicero's…


“The Bar Guys,” “Cold Pizza,” “Drunk and in a Blind Rage I Lean Against a Pole and Watch the Neighbor Use His Car Speakers as His Cell Phone,” and Other Poems

the bar guys some days i’ll pass one of them on the street and they’ll look as bad and used up by the world as they did when i left them sitting on…


Three-Line Poetry Collection

Untitled Stand on soapbox made by another’s hand Pick a social injustice to protest Awareness will not rule it out Untitled What would a painting say…


“Martyrology,” “The Failure of Lucidity,” and “Study Time”

Martyrology We listened from a distance  for your chrysalis to speak. To give us intel, a reason, some sign we could clutch tight against our…


“Before Everything Went Down” and “Remembering the Dead”

bEFORE eVERYTHING wENT dOWN I watch the flies outside bzzing around eating out rotting dead cat rubbing their legs together fucking like tiny…


“Exile on Washington Street,” “Like Winter Into Spring,” “The Brotherhood of Night Drivers,” and “In the Valley of Zero”

Exile on Washington Street The collected mass bays for blood. “Kill him” and “Crucify him,” they sing through assorted smiles. This is no ordinary…