Sunday Mornings

Late morning mother made me hold the rooster’s legs as she hunched over holding the wings a horizontal slash across the neck   The blood poured into a round ceramic bowl muscles twitched in death my hands struggle for life   It was a necessity for the ceremony father would perform later for grandmother sick... Continue Reading →

How I Became… A Smoker

For the record, I don’t endorse smoking. I think it’s one of the most self-destructive habits. It’s why I don’t like smoking around children, especially toddlers. I have this habit of cupping the cigarette in my hand when I walk past children. Regardless, I’ve been smoking for more than 20 years and the other day... Continue Reading →

On a Street

Music filters out the café door where I sit with my friend, cigarettes and coffee in our hands, commenting on the dress of passersby, who could care less about our existence.   Though she wants to be great, she fears doing something not ordinary. Once, she was great at soccer but it wasn’t cool to... Continue Reading →

An Addictive Personality

Here's an old column I wrote more than fifteen years ago. Some references are dated. When a friend in college told me that I had an addictive personality, I took it as an affront. Why shouldn’t I? The implication was that I was somehow abnormal or… I’m not exactly sure, but it was negative. He... Continue Reading →

Untitled

T’is the difference between bad poetry and good:   Bad poetry sometimes enthralls the way a pretty girl standing at the bar attracts the eyes and tugs impulses.   Good poetry ____________moves.

The End of Summer

I recently took a trip to Portland to see some old friends. I guess that’s the gist of my trips these days. I’m not really looking for new adventures, I’m just looking to keep those old relationships. Maybe I’m doing it wrong but I can live with that for the time being. I didn’t do... Continue Reading →

Fall

the thinning air scares me ___away to the valley withering wandering __________towards the valley in mid-October’s rain flooding dry decaying leaves   cold wind’s discomfort brushing my face _______________reminding me I’ve forgot ___cold winds carrying emotions, leaves me wondering ___________why everything is starting __________________________to go away   in Autumn’s departure- ___what is this I see... Continue Reading →

Girl’s Room

______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 →

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