baseball writing belief bibliophilia books cemeteries Christmas civility confections corsets crime criminal behavior dance destruction deviance divinity fairy tales film food fucking funerals Hell history holidays horror human behavior humor iconography poetry pop culture punk reading

shock jock

there are times

i feel like the only person alive

who feels that

one Bukowski

was enough

art astronomy fairy tales family happiness history love Music poetry Uncategorized

trying to throw your arms around the world

U2 is spinning on the turntable

achtung, baby

arguably their best album

trying to throw my arms your arms around the world

as i sort through my life



moving on to this next chapter

having raised boys into men

clearing the detritus

of four lifetimes

of mistakes




hearts broken

hearts mended

lessons learned

love found

all this living done

and tomorrow night

stars will find a way

to fill the sky


if you’re reading this

if you’re reading this
you must understand
that every poem
is a message in a bottle
set adrift
on an ocean of lifetimes
looking for
a happenstance
i am shipwrecked
on my island of savage words
i do not wish to be rescued
place the scroll back in the bottle
cork it
toss it back to the sea
this poem has more traveling to do
thank you for conspiring with me



you rationalize
all you want
age 40
is the doorway
to the latter half
of your life
thoughts and prayers
and other useless platitudes
to those struggling to catch up
if you haven’t found your way by now
you never will
i have loved
owned a ridiculously big house
lived in the best school district
driven luxury cars
worn designer clothes
mounted men with huge cocks
and still i was left
i was surviving
not living
because the only pure bliss
is freedom of choice
the ability
to not give
a single fuck

literature poetry seasons writing


now comes

the inevitable onslaught

of springtime poems

as the poets


they are in fact

not dying

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

antacid tablets

this could be a poem
about failure
in love
my career or lack thereof
first female presidential aspirations
gone awry

i was born too late
to be joan of arc
or marie curie

it could be about divorcing twice
and how that precludes a third try
the way i’m not my father
or my mother

a sonnet about autism
what having twin teenagers
who live
inside an alternate reality is like
and the sudden image
of sissy spacek in carrie
when your parenting method
need be applied

stretch marks
grand addictions

bourbon goes in your mouth so willingly,
have you noticed?

panties fall off so easily

those two may be interconnected

student loans
shotgun wedding consumerism
single parent economics

fried green tomatoes
leading to an existential crisis

a closet full of pricey heels
and clutch purses
wishing they were
hiking boots,
sturdy jeans,
and pocket knives

it could be about some piece of shit
who dicked me over

or someone i put the screws to
being thoughtless

it’s funny the damage one can do
without even trying

in southern families
the way
needing a bassinet
is more tragic
than needing a casket

but it’s not
it’s not about any of that

this poem is about gratitude
for all i’ve been spared and given

this poem is the thundering cry
of one human
sent crashing skyward into stars
for god to exist
if not for me
for my loved ones and friends

this poem is about living to write this

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

victim pool

to consider his victim pool
is quite staggering

all of them spent time
lashed to a provisional chair
a designated corpse
forced to wear a party hat

yet once they hacked their own arms off
to escape his attic constraints
each went on
to wondrous achievements

and it’s not because life with him
is an exclusive prep school for young women
with only one degree field offered
in overcoming sadomasochism

though it may be a touch to spite him

he abhors being less than
because bitch
you’ll never be equal to

no, no

it’s that he has a predilection
for attempting to destroy
the most beautiful things

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

Do you know what you want?

his stool sits next to me at the bar
one hemisphere to the left

he tips his panama up with the rim
of a green belgian beer bottle

leaning in until his shoulder finds mine

this is an unfair question
cuz i get mad when people ask me…
i don’t know after all these years…
but do you KNOW what you want?

she leans back all cleopatra
with an asp in her purse
and says

i want to read everything
i want to write everything
i want to fuck everyone worth fucking
i don’t care about fame
i want to die a grandmother
from a lethal bong hit
i want to be mummified and placed in the Smithsonian
so that i may keep saying something to people

that’s beautiful
what’s it gonna take?

a steely resolve to keep moving

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

all before lunch

dog (wake up, human)
eyes open
the softness of pillows
avoid phone
bathroom ritual
vomit (prolley the bourbon and steak last night)
social media but no status update
vomit (unrelated to social media, made the cafe bustelo a tad too strong)
alka seltzer
dog (mandatory fetch playing)
cook a proper breakfast for the house
morning news
avoid phone
vomit (morning news inspired)
mediate teenage territory skirmish
dog (walk)
irish creme
avoid phone
kitties (aloof, conspiratory)
wrote this poem
still no status update (the world has gone mad)
all before lunch

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

i wear my silver hair

i wear my silver hair
a mysterious darkly dead father
a beautiful blonde door locked mother
siblings of foreign surnames
an uncertain childhood
the capacity to thoroughly consider
high school amongst wild hogs and angels
my bad choices
evil men
good women
great grandmother who is a disney character
exposure to religion
loving too late
the one man i want
and can never have
every war we have waged since 1776
twin stretch marks my battle scars
being a mortician
being a poet
being a teacher
being born
all have aged me

i wear my silver hair

lightning atop my brunette crown
as medals of valor


will cease to age me

i’m only 35 as i write this

my god

it’s a long way down