Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

when night begins to blur

if the silence of your life
gave way to the hotel lobby
of an indie film

this is the raining frame
when night begins to blur into
a paul simon tune

streaks of taxi cab light
clear flashes of his face above yours
dark skin
red shoes running
on a wet platform

barely making a train
back to the real world

suitcase with stories to tell

hair soaking
trench coat concealing
a body sore
still shaking beside his

your hand
a smile

but helpless
to conceal
mascara tears

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

promise me this

listen jack
love songs don’t interest me
i’ve been on the train too long
and i’m tired of being kissed
we can be everything to each other
but make no mistake
it can’t ever matter

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

two artists in a train station at night

with no less than a hundred other places
he could have planted himself
the well-dressed septuagenarian in the suit
sits down directly beside
my london fog
in the starkness of the 3 a.m. train station

his bones
and the wooden bench
making similar creaking noises
as he settles

“Isn’t it crazy you can only catch a train back east in this town at 3:30 in the damn morning?”

as he rifles a jacket pocket to no avail

i sigh and say,

“It is Cincinnati…notoriously late for everything.”

he nods and gives and extra suck to his throat lozenge

the sense of intrusion fading
my mind performing jubilant cartwheels
because he just said
back east
as if people actually say
back east
suddenly feeling grateful for his warmth
in the surgical sterility
of the vacuous art deco room

where it somehow manages
to be 1939

save the pay phones
ripped from their booths

wires dangling from the walnut walls
folding doors half open
glass still covered
in fingerprints
gaping victims of technology and time

other passengers hailing from the depression era
begin filing in
with too much luggage
and too many children

my eyes find a small amber feather
on the side of his exquisite olive fedora
as he asks

“Why a train? You look more like the jet set type…”

“Too afraid to fly…you?”

“Too old to drive and too poor to fly. Where you going, miss? I’m Karl.”

“All the way to Penn Station, Karl. 17 hours. My name is Alicia.”

we shake hands

“Me too. What do you do for a living, if I may?”

“I write angry poems and perform them in front of people.”

“You gonna write an angry poem about me?”

“No, but I do plan to write about those Cordovan boots you’re wearing…”

he laughs at the floor
shaking his head at my knowing

“You are a poet.”

i smile a century

“What do you do?”

“I play the trumpet.”

“You gonna play a song about me?”

“You’re damn right I am…and those heels you’re wearing…”

“You ever walked down the ramp to the platform here before? They may have been a bad choice…”

“So steep it’s like you’re going to hell. Well, tonight we can go together.”

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

the scientist

my train stopped
at the charleston station

it’s a long stop
which means the nicotine fiends
had time to step off
for a smoke

on hopped a beautiful lesbian
who hadn’t shaved her legs
since gerald ford’s administration

she took the seat beside me as we began to roll

then revealed her life
and a doctorate in theology

when i reciprocated

she explained there was a name
for what i am

a conceptual atheist

someone who believes, if there is a god,
we cannot possibly understand it
by virtue of being it’s creation

such hubris

it is the same scenario as a microorganism
staring back up through
the microscope
and claiming to know the thoughts and will of
the scientist observing it

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

icarus fell into the sea

you are the reason
the wright brothers took flight
you are the reason
the chicago & rock island railroad
dared to cross the mississippi
you are the reason henry ford
leaned over a drawing board
sketching models a to t

the gods knew
one day
we would require them
to carry you to me

you are the reason
daedalus fashioned
a pair of wings

you are the reason
icarus fell into the sea

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

trenton makes, the world takes

makesbridgeit was my fifteenth hour
headed north
on the cardinal route
a leaving delaware delirium
resting uncomfortably
in the lack of a sleeping car

back when jersey still had a shore

the train tracks were skimming us
toward a crashing nighttime death
in the black atlantic

sharks approach silently with their teeth

out the window
my eyes found
an iron bound
bridge glaring back at me
stretching the width of the garden state
wearing a red neon garter
as a sign

“Trenton makes, the world takes…”

and i knew then
all was lost

it was the september
of not wanting
to know more

poetry Short Stories Uncategorized


when i ask


i went
to such great lengths
traveling to your place in the world

the answer comes with absolution

it wasn’t
i was in love

the poet within me
just needed a reason
to ride a train into the city