WHEREIN THE AUTHOR GETS LAID OFF WITHOUT GETTING LAID/ AND SCREAMS I BEEN IN THIS PRISON FIFTEEN YEARS Two days left before the office shuts down for good. After 80 years the firm where I work will be shuddered and left to history, though no one in the future will look back on this place …
The Twelve Days Of Clinics
*WHEREIN THE AUTHOR WORKS OUT HIS TRUE FEELINGS ON CHRISTMAS **WITH THANX TO THE OTHER JIM ***SET TO THE TUNE OF ... OH, YOU KNOW On the First Day of Clinics My True Love Gave To Me Chronic Hepatitis C On the Second Day of Clinics My True Love Gave To Me Genital Warts And …
Mouth Of The City
Though I hate Saturday night readings, I agreed, mostly because my friend T was also asked to appear and she would drive me there and back. She texted me that she was picking up one other guest who lived near me but she would come get me first. I packed several poems in a business …
The Saturday A Song Saved My So-Called Life or The Nappy Virgin
IN WHICH TEEN ENVY FROM THE MID 80'S SET MY SUMMER AFLAME SENDING ME ON A PATH OF SELF DESTRUCTION... HOW HAIR CAN KILL... HOW SOMETIMES THE ONLY THING THAT CAN SAVE YOU IS A MUSIC VIDEO... HOW HAIRSTYLES CAN SEPARATE FAMILIES... HOW NEW NOMINEES FOR THE ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAME CAN BE …
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Working With White Noise or What It Means As A Performer To Have Social Anxiety
My friend and I met as if on cue at the convergence of the taco trucks. He attends Fridays at the Oakland Museum regularly on his way home from work and agreed to meet when I told him about the poetry reading. We made a brief lap through the modest community of neighbors here at …
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Shaken
Seizure: being grabbed and tossed to the ground. In an instant, I became a bucking horse, forgiven everything except this moment. In exchange for a mouthful of blackened bacon sweating grease, here is a chaser of carpet and the hail of a table's debris. It is unusual, to say the least, to awaken face down on a carpet, …
Page Vs. Stage / Us vs. Them (or Don’t Cross Streams)
Egon: Don’t cross the streams. Peter: Why? Egon: It would be bad. Peter: I’m fuzzy on the whole good/bad thing. What do you mean “bad”? Egon: Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light. *** During workshop week, I sat …
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Workshop Week & Wild Mountain Dreams
Its been years since I last went to a writer's retreat. Squaw Valley came at just the right time offering me a healing I'd been long in need of. There's a unique community offered by artists gathered together all struggling to write the next thing and to keep working. That creative energy feeds me like …
Creative Non-Fiction at Two Hawks Quarterly
The nice folks at Two Hawks Quarterly have published my story Madagascar, my first attempt this year to send out something else besides Poetry. (Not That There's Anything Wrong With Poetry). I sent it out on a lark just to gauge what would happen-- what happened next was a huge surprise to me. It was …
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The Motor of Voice
Last night I itched to write something and had nothing to say. I'd fallen behind, not writing much of anything last month, set aside usually for National Poetry Writing. What I did do though, was rescue and edit work I'd paused on. Word Camera is a webpage that converts photographs into text. I had three …
The Dirty Rat 