master class

i suppose you could say

i’m one of those people

who has seen more than their

fair share of things

you will certainly find

me adept

in a broad range of topics

from culinary techniques

to obscure music


comic books

addictive substances


lesser know shitty diners

of the northeast

some of it owed to college

and my need

to join the rat race too soon

mostly it was my proclivities

my insistence on taking

a master class

in dating old fucks

what an education

Paris in the rain

a woman’s life

is too tenuous



spider web

close call on I-75

in preterm labor

on the way to the

Paris airport

in the rain






for bad friends

bad family

bad coffee

bad shoes

bad mattresses

bad jobs

bad husbands

bad debt

and bad dick

learn this by 30 for maximum





of a dying planet

Dinner at the Sizzler

if purgatory

is a soup kitchen line

in a catholic church


is serving up grub

on the corner of 8th & vine

southern baptists

pulling up

in their tax exempt jesus wagon

to serve homeless people

hot chili in july

heaven, happens

in Cincinnati

when pigs fly


we were four madcaps deep

in a ratskeller bathroom stall


within boozy historic walls

one of us pissing

three of us smoking

all of us drinking

3 queens and a king holding court

in the men’s room shitter

gods were made

mushroom euphoric

k-hole bar bouncers lamented

upstairs Nagasaki

our glee

our group dynamic pee

a urinal patron

chimed in

with delighted confusion


my lips began

to recite a poem

summoned at will

about buying tickets to the show

spoken word,


spoken turd, i say

he laughed and applauded

on the other side

of our bomb shelter door

in that moment


truly lived

electric bills and birthday candles

it would be all too easy
to allow life
to become a collection of
electric bills and birthday candles
trips to the market
couch bound tuesday nights
not enough for me
i desire adventurous books
sunrises over roman holidays
redemptive music
heroines doe eyed welling
on silvery screens
most importantly
an imperfect lover
whom i love

please enjoy the movie

as involved

as we are

with the narratives

of our lives

in dimmed theaters

when the film is over

house lights shining bright

all of it

will have ceased

to matter

winter was a crime scene


was a crime scene

blood splattered onto frosted windows

red lipstick curse on the vanity mirror

high rise

victim dismembered

meat rotting

in poorly wrapped packages

to be toe tagged

orphans whisked away by the government

appointed neglectful

pearls fallen across the sticky floor

to a police radio symphony

Mahler fatalistic

smug detectives

sipping black coffee

no sugar to be found in the city

a glib act

notebook scratches

with no hope for answers

or finding the perpetrator

who caused

the whole mess


my tinsel heart

FB_20141221_09_04_48_Saved_Picturethe twenty-seventh day of december

in a year

we did not share together


afterglow of christmas beaming

from the tree

through my scotch-taped-back-together soul


tis the season to ache infinitely


driving through light strands

of red and yellow traffic

to the art museum upon the hill


with the little park beside it

where the son we will never have

took his first wobbly

bear dripping honey grinning steps


into your arms as i watched filming

jumping and cooing the way a mother does

over the littlest triumphs


but we never were, darling

our lips never touched


our breathy kissed love affair

ether white wedding by the sea

raven haired children

are nothing

but a shared

far away dream


an assorted pile of glistening

christmas presents

never to be wrapped

accumulating beneath

my tinsel heart

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