______For George Oppen A stranger peeked in Plath’s and Dickinson’s windows late at night, and thought, “Man, these are lassie rooms,” and laughed alone. Yes, a woman’s room is a girly room, and I hope men know that the intelligent prostitute will excite a man, a whore not a girl reaching for... Continue Reading →
After almost a two-year hiatus I'm ready to get this thing rolling again. I'll be providing literary content along with some musings and links to things I find amusing. That is probably not the best sentence I've ever written, but it rhymes so I'm going to ride with it. Lots of changes over the last... Continue Reading →
My father speaks before the family at the dinner table. __[My mother provides the translations.] Upon birth I cried, coming out headfirst. “Happy days are just over the mountaintop. ____The struggle has ended.” She brings countless plates; __frisbees with food for my American friends. He eyes them and grins. (Chew. Don’t choke. ____Moderation is key.)... Continue Reading →
Philanthropy, a Haiku
You say I’m a mis- ogynist, but you’re a whore, and whores are people, (too).