Four Poems

The Losers

Gajra

Since 7 months Rita and I were living in the same apartment but merely as occupants sharing  the same roof. Our 4-year marriage was on...

Air Bag

i have tasted air bag, it’s a badge of honor, a one-way ticket to epiphany, it tastes like burnt rubber, like powdery words sucked...

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

Tell Them This