Tracing writhing streams, circling alpine wastes, tickling out a finger nudged between two behemoths, the crooked ring completed at last

Higher Powers From birth to death some others mu… You see, as infant, round-faced, g… Above the crib, to serve you, need… Precluded by efficacy of sobs.

Thoughts on Cloning Someday the labs will make routine The methods used to clone me. But when my own’s an irksome teen I fear I might disown me.

My Last Trophy-Wife (Apologies to Robert Browning) That photo of my ex there on the… Is one I took before we split las… Yeah, people always ask me how I…

Sex Education Concealed, disguised, deceptively… These mists are slowly cleared by… Across a playground, thrilling tru… Or theorized through older sibling…

Old novels have their faults, but… I’m sure we’d all rush out to buy… If on the jacket lovely Hester tr… To show us all a little cleavage a… New credit cards could quickly sto…

Poets are, to most, myopic geeks, Effeminates with scarves and inch-… writing schmaltz with feathered qu… There are, it’s true, purveyors of… of teddy bears and valentines,

An Abomination* Ice-gleamed streets, sky an ebony… and a girl accordions her tiny car into the back of mine. She, carmine-streamed, head throug…

Our hunters, armed with guns and b… Go forth to thin the numerous deer… So none will starve, we’re to supp… Though that lie causes me to sneer… To jocks karate isn‘t play;

The Jacaranda in Spring (Near Rhyme) What discount art inspired this ta… Eleven months a year you’re quite… Too dark and gaunt, we thought, to…

The Rest Home Bus Arrives at th… I love these ladies. No, I’m not a new kind of pervert… I love them because they persevere… because they have guts.

The Jacaranda in Spring (Near Rhyme) What discount art inspired this ta… Eleven months a year you’re quite… Too dark and gaunt, we thought, to…

Get meat, a gobbet red and rank, something gamy from a back-street… ring with bits of pork and lots of… with herbs for accents eastern; and finally steep in a fishy stock

,The Honky-Poet Blues (With apologies to Bessie Smith) I’m sittin’ at my keyboard almos’… I say, I’m sittin’ at my keyboard… The wife want rent money,