fallen hearts

keep a supply
of iodine and fresh bandages
if you make a habit
of trying to glue back together
broken people
you will cut your fingers
on their fallen hearts
as if they were
shattered wine glasses

addiction Americana analysis art behavior biology books civility ecology education family happiness history human behavior literature local color nature non-fiction parenthood physics poetry psychology publishing punk relationship studies religion rituals science society sociology Southern Gothic thanatology the arts war writing

to spit or to swallow

the patience and wisdom

coming with age

are fast becoming

my favorite shoes to wear


as my own horseshit

and the shenanigans of others

become less excusable

with each passing day

every birthday candle wished upon and blown


there comes a point

when you’ve been told

you know better


repeated behaviors are either psychosis

or selfish forms of masturbation

such as the poets who write

their daily vengeance poem

scribbled in shit and crayon

on unsuspecting

psych ward facebook walls



grant me the serenity

to zip my lips when called for


to know when to spit

and when to swallow


but mostly

when to say

fuck off


Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

shameless display

hold up jack
let me save you
the peanut gallery prattle
and wiley supposition

you have my tacit permission
to know balls to bones

with regards to me
if you gotta ask the question
the answer is yes

my lady parts are showing

i wrote it
i read it
i ate it
i drank it
i smoked it
i fucked it
i got it back to its rightful owner
i wrecked it
i broke it
i breathed air back into its lungs before
i buried it in a shallow grave
i swallowed it hard
and set the whole thing on fire
with plans
to never visit

shove that up your sewing circle

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

together in the mess

what are we guilty of, my friend?

of wanting someone to live our lives with
in exquisite happiness

yet during the quest
we fell prey
to a cunning devil with two heads

false god
who idolizes cult leaders
and genocide-eyed maniacs
loving everything to its
well choreographed death

such a fine male specimen
puffed up chest
colorful feathers and phrases
the lure of a nest

but by the time he’s done with us
we all look just like his mother
in her funeral dress

and he
a fool hung from a tarot card
painstakingly oblivious
a perpetual hapless victim

his lies make the knowing angels gag in heaven
as minions of the compromised willing
knit him bullet proof vests

we are left


stronger than the low hanging fruit
in whose flesh
he’d left his teeth behind
embedded in the past

too intelligent and strong willed to succumb
to his blues man dirge
my best guess

yet i am left with the concrete knowledge
that you are a gift

you and your friendship
are beautiful things
that came
from a blackened this

perhaps the age of our sons made us fight harder
against the rope lashed about our wrists

i don’t care who else believes it

we have another day of life to show for it

and this shared survival
sitting between us

let’s have a shot of whiskey on it
and leave
irreverently joined
glass rings
for others to find

when they open the trunk
and realize

two women survived
a doomed ship
stowed away
together in the mess

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

a day at the races

he’s a friday night
masquerading as
a tuesday morning

don’t you believe
the happy horse shit

but i’ve already called my bookie

so you saddle up however you like

i’m incapable of anger

merely a loose-toothed child tonguing
the impending loss with sick delight

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends


you reappeared
at my back door
peering through morning glass
after your treacherous
cross country journey
eyes bearing horrors
and in need of clean bandages

i must admit
being as torn as your flesh
as to how i should feel

but then i felt proud of you
for having survived
for keeping your vital organs intact

i needn’t hear the story
you know i have lived it
you’ve seen where the teeth
left behind the deepest scars

and i know all too well
what he is capable of eating

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

home from the war

i went out with my friends
all dolled up
in my high class call girl best
the night after we broke up

he was tall blonde beautiful and stupid
5 years younger than me

a marine

home from the war

on leave
the groom of his wedding party

we got bleedin’ drunk on 5th street
and stumbled back to the millennium hotel
buying condoms along the way

it was the place
you and i
had first met
and said goodbye
that sickening july

perfectly evil indeed
america’s favorite white meat

and i fucked him
i fucked him so hard

to spite you
to eat the world

to reclaim me

to kill anything of us
still holy

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

when she saw through the window

the woman leapt from the cab
calling out thank yous for the pleasant ride
as she tossed the driver her fare

her presence was running late for dinner
fresh from the combat theatre
where it was her job
to sew fresh clean
unbroken wings
onto fallen angels

feet barely touching mercy street
as she flew down the sidewalk
in her trademark heels

but she stopped
two steps
from the freshly painted black door
when she saw through the window
who was waiting at her table

a fuming demon covered in need
she had dined with before
ready to be served a damned fine explanation

“There is nothing sexy about obligation…”
she whispered to the nun going by

there would be no mandatory meals that night

she kept walking
until she saw
the green of subway lamps
then caught the train home
to order chinese
from heavenly wok


the unscratchable itch

i am sorry, gorgeous man
for so wickedly causing you
to fall in love with me
i hear it’s a terrible affliction

Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends


if she turned her head away
from the unholy circle
his darkest clouds would descend

sturm und drang
and the madness of dead kings
commanding her
to once again cast her gaze

forced to watch the lions
rip apart
metal and flesh gladiators
with their teeth

she hated him for it

he hated her more
for retaining the will
to close her eyes