Tonight, you found my ire where I carefully hid it; You forced the hands...
after two swigs of absinthe, i yield myself to the philosophy of grief and...
I have tried to be a magician crossing seven seas and oceans, having reputed...
Things Poets Do Bad poets do not see poetry as light or the illuminated...
Christmas on a Street A girl holds herself out of the window like a...
After Making Love After making love we hear footsteps, familiar thuds; bodies entwined, souls...
HOPE Wherever the heart seeks is home. Back home we had no hope, Hope,...
DANCING i this woman’s body is not a home, beautiful broken things do not...
A Failure of Speech A surfeit of light throws Dark images onto the walls–...