I’m very happy to say I have two poems up on Metazen today. Metazen publishes new poetry or a story every day and is one of my favorite lit zines. Big thanks to them and to editor Christopher Allen. Continue reading Two Poems on Metazen
I caught you in the air like a lightning bug You glowed between my hands, my feet left the ground Our effervescence could not be harnessed, could not be saved in a glass jar with a lid We escaped through the holes and became swallowed in the night Continue reading Through the Holes
That school is ugly, I don’t want to go there It’s brazen and bizarre and all kinds of crazy But sisters get shot dead at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning while watching kids play on the stoop. Sanity is fucked all over Continue reading Two Conversations
Birds flutter in the fountain taking their morning shower, the broken finial cascading a quicksilver waterfall The storm-stripped pear tree is putting out new growth, flower buds, as though it were April instead of September Cicadas are singing a dirge for summer while autumn shines like a beacon and I sigh my relief Continue reading Morning Meditation
His eyes were black like something burnt in the bottom of a skillet. Her hair was red and she wore it up, errant tendrils stuck to the back of her neck like clotted blood On a moonless night they went riding, the big BSA thrumming between their thighs, the sameness of a small southern town burning at their backs, shimmering like something from an apocalyptic fantasy The wind in their faces felt as hot as the flush of adolescent hormones before they learned how to quench that parched thirst, all fingers and sweaty arm pits and muffled groans They rode bare-headed with eyes wide … Continue reading Too Far Gone
31 years cracked today in the early morning stillness, beads of sweat along my lip – recriminations and regret – bad luck needs no mirrors or ladders, anything will do. Continue reading Hard Things
Hush now, dog! There’s nothin’ on the front porch but an empty chair rockin’ in the rain spatter drippin’ off the roof. Thunder’s rappin’ an a-rollin’ and lightenin’s doin’ the stanky leg ‘cross the sky – yeah, it’s loud enough to wake the dead but they best stay sleepin’ lest they float away. Continue reading On 13 Days of Rain
Did you think you’d have me like the Milky Way has stars – forever? They say it’s cold in space but you never experienced that on my watch. Spiral galaxies cart-wheel through the abyss no more spectacularly than I did for you. I might have waited in a twin universe but this is the only one I know. Continue reading Blast Off
I’m pleased once again (4th time!) to say my work is published on The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, the oldest literary magazine on the web. Click here to read my work and click here to read the entire issue. You won’t be sorry. Continue reading Dead Mules Talk Plenty
Photo by Infrogmation Varmint Someone stole Uncle Lionel’s bass drum. It was resting in the courtyard of a bar on Frenchman Street next to a palmetto palm under the moonlight . Uncle Lionel was inside slaking his thirst with a cold draft Dixie bought with tips from anonymous tourists and devoted locals. The word went out in the humid New Orleans night, wafting from bar to bar on the notes of wailing saxophones and indignant trumpets. Someone stole Uncle Lionel’s bass drum. The news hit the streets and ran on a second line of lightening, traveling on the dancing feet … Continue reading RIP Uncle Lionel
