I want to sleep without your ghost and take off my clothes alone.  I want to paint the walls purple and  tear up the carpet and  live simply.  Advertisements


That is enough- teeth on edge.  Where do I tear up the earth and find you buried, blinking,  in a dark blue suit?  


You cut me open to count my rings and touch my pulp. You lay my limbs wide to find the fat rings that mark the years when there was plenty of rain. Years… Continue reading


You didn’t know what to say when the world went to break and cut off for you your own lonely corner.  You touched your own pale cheek, your own pink lips, fell apart like… Continue reading

let it burn

    Tonight I burned dinner for the first time in years- almost six. Clumsy hands.  I let the alarm scream, I sat with the over door open watching the edges of the… Continue reading


  If I knew one thing for sure when I met her, it was fear. It was the thrill of standing too close to the fire and maybe even getting your thigh licked… Continue reading


You are a sprawling forest or a dense swamp, the filthy, beautiful shoulder of the Florida I-95 highway; you are sun-bleached and salty.  Your roots have turned to stone.  Your feet left sand… Continue reading


  When you were young you must have looked so old. I had almost forgotten about you.  Little bluebird of mine, little snowflake like a tuft of seeds or water evaporating.  Don’t talk to… Continue reading

a story from the old house

All of our littered pieces are here. All of our stains and broken glass. So many piles of ashes and my own shadow hunched over late nights and notebooks, agonizing, making. All the… Continue reading

Old Dave 4/4

When I pulled my car back around the block, maybe a minute later, Old Dave was dead. People were standing around, staring. I stopped in the street and leapt out of my car. … Continue reading