Category Archives: Updates

and: explosions, flames, smoke   sirens, moans, blood & tears all buried in dust infamy   or: strutting the night   the bowlegged wolverine sniffs the air, disappears and is gone   for: who holds the rights?   who knows … Continue reading →

I watched The Lawrence Welk Show on PBS last night half-drunk on whiskey and was struck by the blatantly overt whiteness of it, like this was the model vision for the reinvention of Making America Great Again, a sea of … Continue reading →

  is a joke but not a cruel joke— just a joke.   What’s cruel is how we obsess on something, get so serious about it— that we fail to laugh and love, live today,   enjoy all the punchlines … Continue reading →

Dark clouds burn yellow over Lolo Peak heavy with rain now puddling dust. That sweet earth smell recalls my youth on hot summer days when I waltzed hay fields and conjured thunder clouds.   Bucking twine bales, building golden temples, … Continue reading →

therefore, I have made myself a poet by insisting I am a poet after years of insisting I wasn’t a poet even though I did know it back then when I kept insisting I was just a guy who wrote … Continue reading →

  If Beale Street could talk would America listen? Maybe if she sang. New Orleans gave birth in bloody cobblestone blues to beat black rhythms  that blew up the cool Big-Muddy Jazz river, Sweet Home Chicago style. B. B., Howlin’ … Continue reading →

vertical bars on the window colored flashing lights piles of newsprint cigarette smoke billows outside a small stack of books poetry on the sill intermittent hammering in the steam radiator the alley-scape latticed with poles and power lines snow covers … Continue reading →

the long night sips the chaos of the day shapers rape the dream- time dark that stew stirring fat witchery brewing jack boots coming closer doors slamming overhead they cower in the basement signal from the shadows sweating and shivering … Continue reading →

sorry i didn’t call couldn’t force myself to pick . . up . . that . . fucking phone should’ve done that on the weekend but i’ve gotten through this shit before   didn’t work this time timing is everything … Continue reading →

My son’s thirtieth birthday. His mother turns sixty next week, and her mother, eighty, is coming to celebrate the dawn of the decades with us, them, me, and my other son who turns twenty-seven in April close to his brother’s … Continue reading →