It is raining tonight, and the rain in its falling is stirred into a tumult, a chaos of cross-wise winds. More living things than liquid the droplets, adhering as they do in fine fashion to park benches, lamp posts, eyelashes. Enveloping you, dancing above you. It is raining. The mist swirls. It cascades as though…
Woof
When I’m up in Maine I like to ride my bicycle late at night. Should ever you bear witness to one of these events you’ll see for yourself my midnight transformation–how this man melds with his machine, the chrome and the rubber and the swim-trunks. Be sure to watch for the faintest bit of light,…
Cuban Coffee Confessions
Once a month he’s up on the stage, poetry, where under the guise of the art he uncovers his crimes. In the dark of the cafe the crowd listens to the man on the spot, as shedding light on his kills he recounts: “She cried.” Spoken softly, the package safely back at home, the Saturday…