You always smelled likelimburger cheese and slibovitz.I remember how you held your nosebetween two fingersand blew it into the streethow you slurped your borshtstraight from the bowlhow you said with a Polish accent“Vot a vunderful tuchus she has.”A refined man you… Read more ›
If prayers could animatethe matchstick armsthat dangle by your side,I’d compose a dozen dailyand post them on the old-growthcedars in Olympiawhich shoot straight up to Heaven.It’s been three years since you feltthe numbness in your handsand your illness is stilla… Read more ›
you started as a humble shepherd fed the poor and soon became the patron saint of cooks and kitchens but absent-minded as I am I know you best as the finder of lost things I´ll do a little dance for… Read more ›
Survivors they hang on like plants well past their season dolled up in beehive hairdos heavy mascara and rouged cheeks the earth may want them but damned if they’ll go gently into that awful night to be acknowledged only… Read more ›
He planted the roses in the wrong season, deceived by the string of balmy days into thinking spring had come. He churned up the soil and mixed it with peat moss and bone meal. He laid down a two inch… Read more ›
My heart had become a lonely house, abandoned at lands end, deaf to the complaints of the wind and the clamorous cries of the terns, its empty rooms echoing only the tumultuous roar of the surf at midnight When… Read more ›
we’re old vines you and I our best vintages a pretty memory but our fruit retains some sweetness yet the first frost hasn’t touched it it’s ready to be plucked and pressed into the second wine, la piquette, consumed in… Read more ›
Roberta, née Rawa in Iraq, weary of explaining to the salesgirls in cosmetics her reasons for wearing a hijab, decided to let her lustrous hair flow down and no longer cringed when her husband’s friends, emboldened by cocktails, gave her… Read more ›
a sign posted at the entrancecautions overweight childrento avoid the footpathat the base of the fallswhere the little men los duendesdressed like stoplightsin their yellow capsred smocks and green bootssnatch the ones who can’t run fast enoughand drag them to their cavesto… Read more ›
Lou had a low IQ, Rose a bent Semitic nose, but Cass, O darling Cass, what a wonderful Irish ass. (Originally published in Three Line Poetry)