Old leaves covering the drains a question of extinction should the Spring floods rise to the second-story level.  Up there windows confused ...

After unpacking the journal  from overseas I riffle through the pages  to locate my poem. I point at the byline  to my unlettered biddy,  “M...

I am Charles Bukowski resurrected And bad Dylan Thomas on a bender pissed up And ever so slightly mad. I hate public school types and the ho...

For Carey Floyd Another town another atom bomb, another station wagon, another boy called Jody sliced in half under its wheels, another epis...

Tread lightly The man asleep, curled up in the doorway could be in the middle of a very very prophetic dream He wants to be wax Climb him ca...

You reminded me of Paul Weller, somewhere in London on a winter’s morning, petrol burning his nose, pigeons shitting everywhere and the love...

In the snow your hair scrubs clean Ice runs down  into a melting pool You might die  from severe trauma Can a person survive such extremes o...