Author post… Poem for a Morning (1) 16 Apr 2025 A short poem in the form of a tanka...our days being what they are.... behind tall buildingscolors seep into the nightmeanwhile from the westclouds drift towards a timid dawnit is…
Announcement… “Junkyard” 10 Jan 202410 Jan 2024 "Junkyard" is a poem, not a story, the usual disquisition on mortality explored through the metaphor of a junkyard. In fact, inspired by actual, if casual, junkyards I encountered while…
Author post… “Be Like the Tide” 28 Jul 2023 Every now and then, I'll publish something here, just to share. And since I've endured something of a dry spell, with not much new work published recently, todays'a good time…
Announcement… “The Garden” 1 Jul 20231 Jul 2023 My longish narrative poem, "The Garden" has just appeared in the Summer 2023 issue of Gyroscope. The poem is set in a community garden in a neglected neighborhood of Los…
poem “The Streetcorner at Dawn” 13 Aug 202215 Aug 2022 I am going to "sacrifice" the poem I wrote this morning and post it here, which means that I won't be able to offer to a journal or magazine, since…
Author post… Estivation…. 29 Aug 2021 The summer doldrums seem to be a cyclical affliction of the publishing world. Maybe it's because so many editors and staffers go on vacation, especially those work work on magazines…
Announcement… “The Air like Water” 7 Aug 2020 My poem, "The Air like Water," has just appeared in the Grey Sparrow literary journal. Cast your eyes on it at: Grey Sparrow: "The Air like Water" As usual, the…
Announcement… Live Virtual Reading 11 May 202011 May 2020 Live events being off the table for now, Rich Soos, editor at Cholla Needles, just set up a virtual table: he asked all the poets who have been featured lately…
Author post… Signs from Heaven 21 Mar 2020 One thing I love about our apartment is its windows. We are on the second floor, and our street is narrow and bordered mostly with older, graceful buildings. There's a…
Author post… The Tide 20 Aug 201820 Aug 2018 Another poem, because, well, writng poems is one thing humans do.... lazy ripples lap at tumbled rocks rising to the tidewrack of dead weeds then falling back, depleted and serene:…
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