Category Archives: Poetry

My vision isn’t sharp enough to read the white-on-orange letters overhead, but I can’t fail to notice them – I need to take in my surroundings. Walking dead are all around me – eyes upon their phones, ambulation automatic, blind … Continue reading →

The ball appears suspended in the sky. I tossed it up and it will fall to ground but first it has to hang a moment, high and parabolic till it turns around and speeds its way to smack my busy … Continue reading →

I see the ball is in my court again. Our graceless game continues with no score or satisfaction, for it’s always when we manage some momentum that you floor me with resentment and forsake all sense. Our match is not … Continue reading →

Whenever he engages me in any conversation, I always watch the motion of his lips. They curve and curl and roll in a delicious invitation to sample them with nibbles and with sips. But that’s a banquet I can ill … Continue reading →

I lack a lover but I have a mate, and think that I’d prefer the opposite: A little lusciousness to celebrate a body long asleep but growing fit; a bit of dalliance, erotic fun, relief from all the jobs I … Continue reading →

It’s funny how we wouldn’t say goodbye – with each of us so angry and so hurt – distempered tender batterers who try to bluster through the pain and speak in curt emphatic challenges or low retreat. We tried some … Continue reading →

A crisis of identity it’s not. She knows herself as well as one can ask. The issue seems to be that she forgot to blinker her responses with a mask of socialized sobriety and dull prescribed behavior. Sure we follow … Continue reading →

I almost always mean the words I say, and very rarely speak them to an ear that pays attention. “How are you today?” I’ll answer with the facts. See I’m sincere and courteous and truthful and direct, but most the … Continue reading →

Respectfully I edit what I wrote three days ago, reviewing it for gist and attitude. To get it I must quote myself in love, by composition blissed and wit remarked. A question begged or left to hang will hang the … Continue reading →

Outside the library, there grows a yard of lawn-like grass, a triangle of green, where canines bred to hunt, retrieve, or guard review the scents of passers-by. The scene around that place, amid the dirt and dew, appears the same … Continue reading →