I snuck into the movies yesterday to watch 2012.   I think that it was 2013 by the time the movie ended. 

There were a lot of explosions and holes in the ground.  But there were even more holes in the story.  Even considering I snoozed through about 20 minutes of… Read full post »

The line inches forward.

 I wait my turn

to be the lone voice in the wilderness.

The guy in front of me, he's seen some things.

Injustice and callousness, cluthced tight against his chest,

he hoards like gold.

The selfish bastard won't share his righteousness with the likes of us.… Read full post »

Dear Diary, 

Today I ate a bloomin' onion and on the drive home was violently sick.  I pulled over at a local library and ran inside, intending to use the bathroom.  I have been in this situation before, not even counting the White Castle incident of '92, and I knew… Read full post »

   Palin teaser.

See what I did here? I furthered my ulterior motive of getting people to click on my blog, by posting three things I could not care less about. Sex videos, of course, being the exception.

That makes me no better than Palin, Beck or (almost) Miss America.… Read full post »

The other day I was enjoying a drink with my vaginally challenged friend, Pete. Pete is a social democrat who has chosen an alternate lifestyle that does not, technically, require the use of sock puppets. We had just come from a bachelor party and had decided to skip the film… Read full post »

I was playing quarters in a bar last Saturday night and someone bet me I couldn't write an Italian sonnet.  The fool.

LUST'S LABOR'S LOST

I feel your breathing quicken through the night,

I taste the heat that rises from our lust;

declare my love for you with every thrust.

Passio… Read full post »

circa. 2012,  found in 32 Magnolia Way, Newark, NJ; Kitchen wall.

Medium: Blue crayon

You taste like chicken,

Raw, rancid, putrid chicken.

finger licking good.

  Read full post »

Stanley plunged his hands in the soapy, tepid water and fished out a sponge that had been buried under the submerged dishes.  Janet was stretched out on the couch in the family room. Even over Glenn Beck's weeping on the television, he could hear her snoring, clear as day. If there was… Read full post »

I ate a Bloomin' Onion,

now I'm bloomin' sick.

I ran for the bloomin' toliet

but kabloomed all over it.

God help me.

I’ve lost my taste for self-delusion,

and I can hardly breathe.

Each truth pulls me, a dozen gravities.

Small, crushing phantom weights,  demand attention,

pin me down.

My failures cry out "gather ‘round!" "Gather ‘round!" Read full post »

An out-take from a novel I"m working on entitled "I've Been Deader."

There once was a zombie called Fred,

Who's life much improved upon dead,

When asked why he bit,

he thought over it,

and moaned  "Braaiiins" as he slobbered and fed. Read full post »

A piece of flash fiction and the opening chapter of the novel under the same name.

                                    &n… Read full post »

                                                  &… Read full post »

As usual, Wee-nee was the first one awake.   The cave was filled with the sounds of snoring, farting, and the crackling of the fires, He carefully made his way outside.  Seeing no sign of BigTeeth or SwiftClaws, he scurried a few yards away from the entrance and  … Read full post »

Its 6:45 a.m.  A gritty sort of magic pervades the air at "Valentine’s" in the Hamilton Hotel. Silver troughs are filled with thick wedges of French toast, pounds of flattened, cardboard like bacon, mounds of shiny sausage links, and other artery clogging goodies.  Urns of strong… Read full post »

Some things never let go.

the gravity of pain

pulls at a tide of unshed tears.

A Martyr is a person who endures persecution and often death for the sake of their religious profession or position. It is a Greek word, meaning "witness." On September 11, I witnessed the instant initiation of more than 2,700 martyrs. I saw something in the span of minutes that many live… Read full post »

There's more room in a b ro ken
heart.

The place where I kept you
safe and treasured
now empty.

Looking back
it was a vault
built of grass.
strong   secure    on 
lazy, warm days.

But it shook in a soft summer breeze.

cracked in the first cold autumn rain.

broke in winter'… Read full post »

tears shaped like starving women and

bruised children.

I turn away.

Monstrous indifference seduces, insinuates.

The heart, a garden of dark thorns scattered on dead ground.

I keep walking.

      In the end,

ignored

devalued

forgotten.

With each turning aw… Read full post »