Carapace

by on April 1, 2009 :: 0 comments

Skittering across the kitchen floor; a Kafka dream come true. Was it something I’d said, or something I’d done in a sordid past life to be rudely made one of the hated majority of carapaced vermin? I had become just a bug on the wall a brown spot, un-noticed who sees more of humans than any would care to know; …

SELECTED BY VOICES

by on March 27, 2009 :: 0 comments

Sometimes it is best not to speak. Speaking could be overrated. Talking to voices isn’t all that it is cracked up to be either. I cannot get respect in this place. No one believes me that I have been selected by the voices to lead this world and save it. I would walk on water until I reach the other …

WINDOW OF MIRACLES

by on March 26, 2009 :: 0 comments

Looking out my high bedroom window, above the city, I watch a gold ball of light emerging and spreading and rising in the east. Wearing a celestial smile, I open my window of miracles, and let yellow-gold waves of light sail through, caressing the potted plants on the windowsill and blessing me in the mad swirl of dawn with its …

starbucks: five of them

by on March 20, 2009 :: 0 comments

“fuckin this” and “fuckin that” they show the world they are nearly men by fucking everything… “mom…” says one, sheepishly on his cell “can josh sleep over?” they’re playing with a lighter now melting things straws cups laughing in their almost grown voices boys and fire boys and their bobbing knees they are silly in their newly birthed not yet …

Not Quite Right in the Head

by on March 17, 2009 :: 0 comments

Why does the young man xwith Turrets Syndrome xxspit, curse and shout xforcing the old women on the street corner to recoil and run for safety? Why does the senile dog xwith a limp xxgrowl, bark and chase xthe mail carrier only performing her daily job? Why does the teenager xdiagnosed with AIDS xxslit her wrist xbent over the sink …

INDIGESTION

by on March 11, 2009 :: 0 comments

A bad dream pastes a collage of magazine images on the moon, backlit designer names from a stellar platform, but dims all the romance around the world. A woman tries to wake from the mind’s imaginative subconscious, clean the sable brush of light painting the inside canvas of her rapidly moving eyes. There is nothing wet about this rain of …

See-Things

by on March 1, 2009 :: 0 comments

The simplest way to say things is to see things: The sun in the back of my head, no timetables for backgammon, women of liquid starlight. That sun was rising I fell. I fell from the center of the carousel; hospitals were hiding time, the world was only horizon. I want to see things but there is nowhere to look …

A QUARTER-TO-12 AT THE MIRAGE ON VALENTINE’S DAY

by on February 28, 2009 :: 0 comments

A quarter-to-12 at the Mirage on Valentine’s Day, we sit in the all-night Brooklyn diner and play old songs on the Compact Disc, nostalgic songs of our youth. We listen to “Chances Are,” “It’s Not for Me to Say,” “Misty,” and other songs sung by Johnny Mathis, followed by “My Funny Valentine,” “Fly Me to the Moon,” and “All The …

JOHN WAYNE

by on February 26, 2009 :: 0 comments

I loved John Wayne long before I ever felt that way about someone female. Before the melting heart, there was the trigger finger. Before the tingling down the spine, there was the long held breath at the approaching Apache horde. I must have willed John Wayne to a thousand dead Indians before my father informed me, “They’re all just actors.” …

Joe

by on February 22, 2009 :: 0 comments

click here to listen to the spoken word mix by 10k Poets (spoken word track courtesy of PAO Productions) Some folks say there’s no voice today that is willing to reach the hearts and minds of the average Joe. You know him. He’s the: The 50+ hours a week with no OT Joe The let’s build our lives on shaky …