Monday, November 24, 2014


You are drifting into the black-and-white blur
that divides reality from imagination. How long

did my hand linger in the delicate small
of your back? How deep was the green

in your eyes the first time you let me
see them all the way through? Is everything

as soft as I remember everything being?
Did the cinnamon of your breath really mix

with the hunger of my mouth upon yours? You are
a haunt to me, a fading gray of unremembering.

Eunoia Review - November 2014

She Went Too Damned Blonde for Anybody's Good

Her walk wiggled its way into a sashay;
her hugs got tighter, took longer,
stopped including the shoulders;
her tan-lines crept down on top,
shimmied up down below
and more men met the edges of them.
Even her laugh took a turn –
going from a guffaw
of throwing the head back with a snort,
to a bouncing giggle and a lean.
Before long, she could not remember
the meaning of certain big words.

Eunoia Review - November 2014

X's and O's

Would you watch it
with the X’s and O’s?

I’m a guy.

X’s and O’s
are sophisticated
of you go here,
then go there,
pay attention to this,
respond to that.

X’s and O’s
are the Kama Sutra,

They ain’t no
“Ta Ta, see you soon.
Say, ‘hi,’ to the Mrs.
Hugs and kisses.”

Thursday, November 6, 2014


Her flirting flicks
the sharp wet edge
of his imagination
the way his tongue
longs to tease the silky
tip of her understanding.
He closes his eyes, lets
her shape curve

Profane Journal - Winter 2014