This is me: A not-so-happy place. Only because I cannot differentiate between music and life — there is strife. I am pulled in wholeheartedly whether you and I like it or not. A banjo. A fiddle. A sad ole gospel. I have never seen the light, though I...

My mind is rambling, an untamed ox, the zen monk would say. Passengers in planes to japan sleep while i size up hale-bopp and the egyptians who last saw it. The faitfhful attend mass en masse, i contemplate those who painted the walls and affixed doves...

the highway became the harbor full of creaking, moaning ships water splashing and slowshing there it was: crashing collision metals smashing and scraping screaming of pain and fear fear of what you couldn’t see: only hear only taste the dampness of the...

I created an account over at Poetry Express, a great online social networking site for poets. I’m giving it a trial run, though it’s free if I decide to completely migrate. Wanna read Crash? Just click on the title. It’s a great way to get a feel...

let’s explore this                        whitespace together, where same-flesh color meets black sail through the coarseness of it down your spine to the dark canyon where boys come out on bottom i could trace this with my tongue: could...