Sleeping on Otis’ Floor

“Goodnight, asshole,” John says. I see the meaty ghost of his shadow collapse below street-lit window blinds. I hear him thud. He groans like...

Acknowledgement of Limitation on Unrestricted Interpretation

I undertake not to use this poem for any purpose associated with the promotion of nuclear, chemical, biological, spiritual, sexual or conventional warfare, nor...

My Vagenda

The Fog

I had an experience once, riding in a Buick and winding up in San Francisco. It was 1962 and I hardly recall what we...

Grab Bag

Blue of the morning