Poetry, Prose, Art, Photography, Curiosities

in lieu of flowers

the doctor asked
if i wanted a death certificate
i said yes
proof of life
that she existed

as you can’t bury
lost hope
in a tiny white casket

in some way

every woman
who lives
dies of
being a woman

last call

the moon
looks like
stood her up

i don’t miss you

i miss the inch
before your lips

bee keeping

my heart chose you
then took up
bee keeping
combs verdant
dripping honey onto
scratch biscuit mornings
we are
monks whispering matins
into steaming coffee

joie de vivre

His personality
is fringe midwestern,
hailing from southern approximation,
a bit of Paris,
Kentucky, that is…
and a smidgeon of broadway
West Berlin.

myths & legends

is a concept
invented by
a pharmaceutical

we never had paris

his oxfords stroll down
piano key sidewalks
stepping to quarter notes
noir film
thoughts smoldering
behind him in cigarette smoke
and i think
in another life
we would have fallen in love
during wartime


Hugh Hefner is dead
at 91
but his dick
is being kept alive
in the Playboy Mansion
so future generations
of starry-eyed young women
will not be deprived of the misery
of riding his withered antique
liver spotted genitalia
into a career of middling infamy
and sexual exploitation

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