No Guts No Glory
Jimmy gave him an old rag that he held against his face to stop the bleeding
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- 667 reads
Ma
Locks the door behind. Still on the floor. I can hear but I'm blind.
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- 4 comments
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- 1503 reads
The reality of bent nostalgia and good drunks
When he hit, boy laughed. Small fearful, feral laugh. Who knows why? But he did and boy knew when.
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- 2699 reads
Restoring (Prison song)
Screws are hard. Screws become bent. Souls can be wrong. But souls can turn right. Don't play their game. Otherwise. They will put you into the frame.
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- 916 reads
Victim
Severe truth about life and our society
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- 8 comments
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- 2440 reads
Love with all its wrinkles
better than sex
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- 1 comment
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- 908 reads
Finite's Lost Arrow
there's always one
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- 1 comment
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- 882 reads
MAN ON A TRACTOR poem
acreage stretching into the sun a driver prideful of his rows their perfection in rounded shapes
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- 2969 reads
NEW YORK CITY SEPT 11, 2001 poem
cell-phones cry love to distant homes families listen in terror, sad conversations memories of precious voices, and then silence, smoke, faces raised in awe.
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- 1307 reads
EYES poem
tears heard from loving children a father not realizing his loved one absorbed it all.
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- 1 comment
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- 1089 reads