Category Archives: poetry

lot of nothing those first few years followed by sleeping with men followed by tears school this or that parents cream cheese on white bread no crusts pissant poet husband baby! then over the mountain for divorce the fandango with … Continue reading →

Swimming with pink angel shrimp drenched in a piranha moat shaded by willows that sway and flash their wispy breath like fins all I know is that when I was frail and frowning drowned in foamy waters dog paddled spirals … Continue reading →

I ate dinner at midnight My midnight lover ate dinner with me. I threw a kiss at him across the table His kiss flew across the table, dinner now bones and gristle. I ate the kiss. My lover bled midnight … Continue reading →

howls my mother frown and furrow spiked finger points a painted claw something to cry about she mutters stutter and howl, crybaby boy crazy lazy good thing you are smart since you uglier than a miser’s heart she smirks hands … Continue reading →

looked in the cupboard and nothing there but a few mangy cans of maybe peas, nobody eats canned peas, so I put on my walking boots headed to the super Doppler effect market, moving faster than the speed of sound, … Continue reading →

Who is that girl with butchered hair? She falls off the bulletin board like a stick figure, used to be magic but now is forlorn. Hunger is my middle name. Look at me on the playing field. The ball is … Continue reading →

My love is on the move today having motored to the station and situated himself in a bus equipped with air conditioning and multiple baglets of salty pretzels, driven by an eminent expert chauffeur who will transport passengers to Boston, … Continue reading →

It rained that day, gray frayed and green While Cat slept on a cushioned chair Wind drove against the window screen I walked the beach, wet face & hair ——————— While Cat slept on a cushioned chair The rain drummed … Continue reading →

fox & wolf & tiger & pants on fire, she can’t recall each blurred section Who stopped the forest? Who plucked her strings on Sixth Avenue? A violinist lives on the sidewalk under plastic household a shopping cart stomping men … Continue reading →

I am good at memory whispering poems my mother learned by heart in her orphan home — taps upon the stage in stiff starched dress while benefactors swamp the seats & she recites with apt dramatic gestures the story of … Continue reading →