Category Archives: Updates

The Old Poet Sees the White Man

                       for Vic Charlo Two stools down, two white guys rebuild – sheet rock and tape – the house they’d worked on all day, tossing back pints of Miller beer. … Continue reading

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MY FELLOW AMERICAN

i do appreciate you my friend and your poems too   your directness is the key that honesty   will get your ass in trouble   dancing in the bullshit bubble of decorum   but you’re a poet just doing … Continue reading

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AFTERMATH

The Rolling Stones In concert Was no excuse But since I couldn’t Get stoned For the show Risk pot in my piss I decided I could Drink whiskey instead I don’t know why I thought I could But I did … Continue reading

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rose hill blues

    chorus 52 funny you should mention them ol clickity-clack blues i been rollin round with dr. sax searchin for my walkin shoes   so its funny you should mention you got that hobo moan a-goin cause ol master … Continue reading

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A Jug of Cranberry Juice

today’s a day to celebrate don’t give a fuck open up those pearly gates do something really stupid poke the bear push your fucking luck buy a bottle of irish whiskey and a quarter ounce of cocaine pretend you know … Continue reading

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MY JESUS

Is a gay black man Who loves women and Muslims and Jews. My Jesus got off That slivered cross some Two thousand years ago, rolled away His stone and went back to smoking Behind the Salvation Army thrift store. Sometimes … Continue reading

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ICARUS FLIES AGAIN

In Butte Clouds hang low As Wobbly agitators Suspended like saucers, Whole plates of mashed potatoes, Or maybe platters, paint palettes Your mother might have dreamed up To mix the dark oil she splayed Across nightmarish canvas . . . … Continue reading

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podunk no horse

you know this place peeled paint picked flakes and rusted hay rakes anchored in duff and shrouded in weeds the moist smell of earth in your nostrils kissing the dirt and smoking snake grass talking to the notorious absent you … Continue reading

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LAST VISIT

He lies supine on top of the covers, hands on his belly, beard trimmed, eyes closed, the rise of his chest suggesting sleep, so I watch him breathe for awhile. Usually when I touch his knee, slowly he opens his … Continue reading

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AFTER JERRY KRAMER

To be there in that moment, blood & sweat freezing to skin—elbows & shins bruised, swollen—the turf hard as stone—you crouching, feet measured by feet right & left, legs spread shoulder width— twisting cleats, digging in, finding that bite, then … Continue reading

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