Month: September 2018

A petty theft

There was a Polaroid of me From nineteen sixty eight Hair down to shoulders Lennon mutton chops Puffing a dubious cigarette Unearthed years later In a shoebox of fading photographs Funny…I had lectured my only son On the evils of booze and dope And, of course, He was the finder And the keeper (I learned) […]


A chore put off

Through a muddy split window, the wild winds whip. The dark of day descends, as checkered quilts wave goodbye, off to new realms. And I, fresh from a steamy shower, empty the vacuumed dirt of a hundred days, absorbing a dark disease.