Title poem off acclaimed collection, How We Are Human. How We Are Human How we dig desperately at the coarse crust, Seeking, searching for the soft cream beneath Only to discover we were crust people after-all, Needing the crispness of a crunch to give us the Dream of cream that keeps us clawing, reaching, Gargling…
We are goats of le mountain and we watch from these heights domesticated goats in le distance and wonder at what sins their Ramcestors must have committed for le condemnation of roaming the sumps below, away from le clouds, away from le warmth of mountain stars—what temptations yesteryear’s ewes relented to for this race to…
It is important to remember that newspapers did not create humanity’s curiosity about the happenings of the world—that curiosity created newspapers. How would Hemingway’s reporting of the Spanish Civil war been different if he had a Youtube and Twitter? “The most useful bit of the media is disappearing,” lamented the Economist seven years ago in…
What to do with dew-drenched days squished by the pressure of our pains? Morning, as seen from the inside pane, Scolds anoche’s wine who regrets making the acquaintance of whiskey and networking with tequila who tickled Hestia into the Hulk. Morning light, you ever-eager retriever, the nature of a hangover is not to nurture, so…
Mary’s Poem Written by request for my sister Who wanted me to write a poem That she could turn a line from into a tattoo Mary, when I emerged from the existential doubt our Last chat plunged me into, I felt guarded, yet flattered and cautious in the face of this brave new permanent…
Calling me unbiased on this issue would be on par with calling the Tea Party a collective of learned scholars. I am as biased as a dendrophiliac is pro saving the rainforest. Like most biases, mine is complicated and came before it was consciously invited. Here’s the scenario: My nearly twenty-year-old sister has gotten her…
Share your words, songs, secrets, or paintings—there is no need to be ashamed of what you create with your heart. Do you have a book growing inside of you? Perhaps you should see a doctor? Or maybe you are one of the 4 out of 5 Americans who believe they have a book to write.…
Forward from Bushwick Poetry, available from Amazon.com I know it was late because when I went inside to use the bathroom the last act of the night at The Goodbye Blue Monday was packing up their instruments. I invited the musicians to come out back and they joined our circle of patio chair. Half of us…
The following is an inscription written on the inside cover a book titled “Once An Addict” that was traded to Dyslexia Books in Antigua, Guatemala. The owner, Bill McGowan, only noticed it after the customer had left: I found this book ½ read on top of the fridge in my son’s house. Sadly, he accidentally…
Yesterday I saw on my Facebook feed some downtrodden posts from travel bloggers about a fellow blogger who had taken her life. I clicked through to the link leading to her page and saw that she had done the deed on her birthday. I visited her blog and read her last post, which was about…
