June 28, 2017

Unknown the known - red-blue dimensions yield

unfinished violets; a billion frowns beget

one funeral dirge to accent supernovas melting

promises faster than immortality?

In the center of it all, the Loneliest Man sips a coke,

assesses his empire once marqueed by


June 12, 2017

Suede-draped sphinxes mounting warfare on bleeding stars while swirling circus cosmos swirls on, cabarated with wisemen bearded by darkest grey.

March 27, 2017

because we are apparent in our transparency, windows seeking landscapes to face, so that students, soon-to-be sages,

March 20, 2017

She was the kind of girl who deserved

a matching set of luggage,

that’s for sure.

The way she moved in quiet whispers,

the grinding halt of her Philips head eyes

screwed tightly on the “Departures.”

She moved like a machine,

stainless and steel, with a nose that could

pierce a...

March 6, 2017

It’s the way blueberry stains your every word,

how yellow taxis decipher the subtext

amidst quiet dialogs of night and moonlight that

I find myself beguiled, awash in summertime’s

Slip N Slide, badminton strokes against deepest

embraces no orchestrated candlelight

can unveil...

February 27, 2017

To echo salience, writing handbooksdemand you declare a chiasmus, so by the timethe Word hooks Its first syllable to your ear, you are It, and It is You,

February 21, 2017

and you weren’t prepared to live and let live tonight… Stirred, not shaken, I demand, truth serum smug.

February 14, 2017

There are grinds in my coffee, lost souls in my soup alive and well in the Paris we left behind.

February 5, 2017

She tried to sell me on a $9 salad bar when all I needed

was a bowl of the 4-Star’s finest

yankee bean soup to fill me up enough so I could

pack a pint of Blue Moon––only one ‘cause

I’m a not-so-proud member of the “Lightweight Club”

seated at the head of the “Cheap Date Ta...

January 30, 2017

Hold up your asp, Cleopatra––

I’ve something more to say.

We’re timeless,

frost-skewed tree branches

barking under our own insignificance.

Our Actium was lost long before the war.

I don’t know where I’ll go, though I

know this leaf-lain portico well enough.

I’ll take my place,...

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