First Drafts: Last Morning in L.A.

A gun shot at 5:30 AM is like A distant thunder clap near The shore of a fog muffled Ocean. The squeal of tires Is louder than the blast. There are no screams, no Pleading for a life, or big Shallow tears washing down Cheeks, smudging mascara. At least not before the Television cameras show […]

Frist Drafts: Scum

The green scum of the pool Is at least an inch thick. Crisp Brown Fall leaves and rotting Grass clippings cling to the Brine, becoming a part of the Filth. But for some reason, the Water still stinks of chorine. All Stoners are the same, they keep You trapped and waiting in their Drifting flat […]

First Drafts: July 4, 2017

The Arizona night growls, Cicadas perched on the blistered Leaves of near bare summer Tree branches, their Thousands of throats an Aggressive hum competing against Man-made thunder. The air hangs Greasy with charcoal, cordite, And the tang of scorched hair and Burnt skin. There’s a moment of complete Silence just as an M-80 sucks in […]

First Drafts: Desert

You curse the desert Or maybe it does the same To you. It curses you with A lifetime of its arid, rolling Yellow sand pushed down Into your seizing lungs Plunging down your throat In gulping, acrid breathes. You curse the desert and its Wife the sun. You curse it Because its invaded your blood, […]

First Drafts: 7:36 PM

You might be asking yourself what the fuck’s up with the poetry shit? A couple of weeks ago I watched David Lynch: The Art Life. (Here’s the trailer.) Lynch is a long time hero and the film flipped a switch in me. I’ve been lucky the last couple of years to live the art life, […]

First Drafts: Rented Rooms

We lay down in our rented room In the mid-afternoon. You are on the bed, which is too small To fit the both of us, And I am on the floor, a pillow bunched Under my head, staring up At the wobbly ceiling fan, waiting for sleep To finally take me And I imagine the […]

First Drafts: Four Pieces Of Art

I play with the idea that there is No such thing as good poetry, Including this. * The harmonica makes my one-year-old Start to cry, until I hum her name thru The silver bar, which makes her cock Her head. I wish I had a camera. * I draw three decaying smiles and a single […]

Cranky Pants Blog Post

I’ve been up since 4:30 because my dogs decided to wake up and act like dopes, so it’s usually just a good idea for me to get up so their dopiness doesn’t spread to the rest of the house. typically I don’t mind getting up this early. My normal wake up time is around 5:00, […]