Sick — Short Fiction

I wish I wasn’t as sick as I am, but I am, and I know it. Perhaps one day you and others will know it too. Inside me…

Bukowski vs. Trump

I cried last night when my mother told me the news. “Your Dad is going to rehab again.” This morning I woke up at 3:45 and thought about drinking. Instead, I had a cup of tea. I turned on the television and “Don’t Let Me Down” was still paused from the night before, the rooftop concert…

Eating Fish

I eat fish for breakfast

I eat fish for lunch

What is your favorite poem and who is its author?

Killing Love

Last night I dreamt of
 a woman without a head
 
 Correction, she had a head
 It was in her lap
 
 Needless to say I couldn’t 
 fall…

Snowdonia

Cadoc Williams watched his son Owain move around the kitchen, watched him frown at the sink, piled high with dirty dishes; at the cracked…

Knowing myself.

a poem for NaPoWrMo 14

Knowing myself to be alive, I ponder
Its purpose, this life, this breath, this…

dead battery haiku

when music runs out

sound of breathing becomes the

truest melody

how beautiful it is to be hungry/que bello es tener hambre

With the holidays coming up, we’re likely…