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IN THE BREACH
There is little you can do about it, less that you want to do, although they are not pleased with your decision. Remind them that they are the ones that left the decision to you, mostly in the hope you would do what they hoped, taking them off the hook, but they now realize they…
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WHISPERED SONG
“Oh, Woman who walks in beauty like the night I am a friend who is distant and silent.” — Dineh Wind Prayer We always sat on the back bench seat of the Collins Avenue bus, stared out the big window, noses pressed against the cool glass, stared at the procession of stucco hotels, simple neon…
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OBITS
You read the obituaries every day not only for the confirmation that you are not listed among them. The key five words there are not only for the affirmation, particularly upon hearing the gentle man you liked, but you also valued as a friend and craftsman is gone, and you didn’t say goodbye, that you…
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OBSCENITY
It was sunrise, he was on the banks of the river, and he knew, in that moment that he would remember the scene, if not the name of the river, or where on its banks he was, that was of no consequence at all, only the beauty. When asked about it, he would say that…
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ANOTHER BAR, THIS ONE TOKYO
This poem was recently (February 5, 2019) published in the Beatnik Cowboy. Check them out at: https://beatnikcowboy.com/ “Another,” he said, his knees pressing against the mahogany panels of the old bar, “and keep them coming until I can take no more. There won’t be a last call tonight.” The clatter of caroming billiard balls…
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GYOZAN SITS
To a parched man sitting along the roadside a picture of the ocean will provide him nothing to quench his thirst and even if he jumps in the salt will lead to his imminent death. But give him the idea of a pond fed by a pure stream and he will be a content salmon…
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VINO
The vines cling to the hillside, the small buds soon yielding fruit but now simply soaking up the spring sun. You dream the grapes are fat, the deep purple orbs holding in their Syrah, Grenache, Mourvedre, and you only wish it would wash down the hillside and stain the sometimes fetid River. The boats flow…
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CUBIC
In the center of every city there ought to be a park, an expanse of green, trees older than the first European to arrive, so old they need not feign indifference to the humans who have invaded and refused to leave despite the mother (nature)’s request that they do so immediately. Some cities comply, but…
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APPROACHING NOW
I’ll be there soon, so hang in there just a bit longer. I do want to meet the beautiful young woman you mentioned in our calls, or is there more than one, because while your vision is supposed to be good, it seems almost all women younger than a certain ever-increasing age are now beautiful…
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WINDSOR EVENING
I sit in the window staring out over the rain slicked streets to the passing of the occasional car and the three men who glance furtively at the door of the “Adult Entertainment” club. The old oak floors are scarred by too many heels. The railing along the window is bolted into the floor, suspending…
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an old writer and his words 