I could stare for hours at her, the woman stepping out of her bath, breasts bare, towel around her waist, before I knew she was you

The longer I stare the lovelier you look in my eyes (so made such mirrors and spies) and I’m not don… yet as I enumerate the virtues of your smile, gracious in defeat,

His first infidelity was a mistake… As her false pregnancy. Later, th… He was born three months earlier t… On his birth certificate, which ha… A marriage license in his hands.…

It’s my birtday I’ve got an empty stomach and the desire to be lazy in the hammock and maybe go for a cool swim on a hot day with the trombone in Sinatra’s

The sky was a midnight blue velvet cloth draping a birdcage and no moon but the breeze was whistling and the sound of a car

If Ezra Pound were alive today (and he is) he’d be teaching at a small college in the Pacific… and attending the annual conventio…

Some people find out they are Jew… They can’t believe it. Thy had always hated Jews. As children they had roamed in gan… neighborhood, looking for Jews.

We were smoking some of this knock… Operation Memory was announced. T… Each soldier went, counting backwa… With a needle in his arm. And the… Of a recession, in the middle of a…

for J.A., December 3, 1975 Ashes that survive the aftermath o… Bury the past bravely, retaining Only those messages that are least… And therefore most desirable

If you could write down the words moving through a man’s mind as he masturbates you’d have a quick bonus bonk read, I used to think. But words were never adequate

The old war is over the new one ha… between drivers and pedestrians on… in New York light is the variable… the content according to Rodrigo… self-portraits at the Robert Mill…

My bag was missing at the airport “Just one bag?” “Yes, but it mean… I had seen the bartender before, b… “You didn’t tell me you had been t… “Yes, I was at Magdalen College…

Christmas defeated Chanukah once again last night by a margin of three billion dolla… or so, but every time I hear a Yiddish word like bupkes

We have too much exhibitionism and not enough voyeurism in poetry we have plenty of bass and not enough treble, more amber beer than the frat boys can drink…