poem about tony and his son |
MY brother and the little Italian restaurant-His first job was at a Italian joint owned by little Tony-A man hated by his daughter and her impeccable nails,the apple of her mother..s eyeHer son, evero...
Posted by on Sun, 19 Nov 2006 21:20:00 GMT |
2 new poems |
i find myself forgetting who i amlike a word i can'trememberdancing just on the end of my tongueor when i close my eyes and try hard to remember the exact cadence of your faceas you said, "I'll see yo...
Posted by on Tue, 25 Apr 2006 15:55:00 GMT |
falling out |
Falling outThe words Like gravelUnwind me we are lookingat one anotherLike old womenInspecting fruit I want to crumpleThis moment Like paperThrow it in a basket Let someone elseDeal with the disposalI...
Posted by on Sun, 22 Jan 2006 16:01:00 GMT |
cab poem |
I drive a cab. I take people where they need to go. The man who lives over on Fourth Street scuttles to the car like a lobster in his cherry-stained, faux leather jacket. His drooping eyes dart about,...
Posted by on Sun, 22 Jan 2006 16:00:00 GMT |
"piece of granite"...a poem |
piece of granite
the other day, waiting for a friend
I saw a piece of granite
at my feet
it bore the mark of man and machinery
i picked it up, then accidently
(but like I am some genius, so...
Posted by on Thu, 15 Dec 2005 10:29:00 GMT |
"kids in the cafe"...a poem |
kids in the cafedon't be fooledby mascara cobwebs traced around an eyethe fat kid in the scuffled oversized pants with a shirt that says "THE QUEEN IS DEAD"nor the emaciated Wensday Addams in the corn...
Posted by on Thu, 15 Dec 2005 10:29:00 GMT |
"bad reading"...a poem |
bad reading
sorry I left the poetry reading
prematurely last thursday
but I just couldn't bear one more dime store novel
reduced to a few passionless lines
dull like the daily herald
nor ano...
Posted by on Thu, 15 Dec 2005 10:29:00 GMT |
poem i wrote for a Swedish girl..and photos of her... |
hennes hemliga ställe
long for the girl in a white dress
her feet
...
Posted by on Mon, 05 Dec 2005 19:28:00 GMT |
this happened last night... |
Strange girl at my door
Its 3 am on a Saturday
and Im lying in bed reading by the lamplight
suddenly, I hear the slow, distinct patter of heels
up the stairs to my apartment
they pause a...
Posted by on Mon, 05 Dec 2005 06:17:00 GMT |
poem: I am wondering why |
I am wondering why
I am sitting in the passenger seat
and you start to cry
"why you crying momma?"
"cause Im worried about you"
then there is silence as we
drive. I feel like I have been here ...
Posted by on Tue, 23 Aug 2005 07:47:00 GMT |
