3 A.M. on Avenue A

Tap, click, snap of my boots on the sidewalk Did it rain or is that dew reflecting lights pools of neon on the street mist and spray hangs low along the gutter lazy steam puffs from manholes and grates The moon dances in and out of purple clouds Such a clever dancer, with her purple fans on the stage of inky velvet and black-lit sky Night makes a gown of blackness out of rags Bag ladies become glamorous in shadows and darkness Queens of the night,... Read More

Widow’s Wish

Sitting in a pink slip on a windowsill, a widow, with flowing dark hair and slim grins, looks at sashaying fishtails and blush lips of local party girls. Night winds bring aromas of body and bloom. Read More Share on FacebookTweet Read More

Park Life

Dickens strikes again: It was the best of times; it was the worst of times A man on a raft, adrift on a sea of grass The loneliness, waiting, hungry for anthacus and arches The ancient Roman circus in his mind blooms like lips Red, full, wet and opening to spew violence and lust Teeth a textured amphitheater, cobblestones in rough circles The tongue leads like a hole in the wall of trees Breathing furious vengeance and small truths A sword, ever ready... Read More