Thunder threatened to chase the few remaining revelers on Bourbon Street. Where were the hedonistic possibilities I had expected to find? True, the hour was
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“Logic is the beginning of wisdom, not the end of it.” (Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country) # One time there was a woman
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A tiny truth shrapnel lodged in my charnel-house heart buried in the bitter blackness a denied and silent specter once acknowledged a dangerous concession this
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“James, wake up. I hear something.” Alice rubbed her foot against my leg. Four in the morning, in mid-January. The house was cold. My brain
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I skinned my knees on the pavement of your playground. Slowly, tenderly, I pick out the pebbles and wipe the blood away. Your ghostly cold
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i I crawl through the atlas. Its pages redundant, its mysteries solved in electrons, still I discover there that I am the lion’s twitching tail
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Happy Anniversary Golden Shovel form using “I Loved You Before I Was Born,”
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“It’s funny,” he said, coughing, “but the one person I really want to see before I die is precisely the one person who won’t come.”
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Love is a sand star slipping through my fingers A ghost of false hopes as boys grimace and girls gaze Unrequited feelings that refuse to
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Caught in the magnetic field of his orbit, a flicker of uncertainty could be fatal. He takes much satisfaction from that reaction. With a voice
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Your vernacular razors leave me daunted all the time. Cost to hold you close is being taunted all the time. My love deified you and
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