• Crescent Moon

    How strange it is
    to lie in utter darkness,
    stealth like,
    a nipple to the shroud.... more »

  • Lets Move On

    They say,
    the academic daddios of the world,
    that poetry slipped into a coma
    sometime during the hip joint beat... more »

  • Reverso

    Have you ever picked up a mirror,
    preferably a small one,
    and held it at a slight angle to your cheek
    to look at the house... more »

  • Seducing Lydia

    We can make small talk if you want,
    take the ripest of words
    in the vineyard of our mouths,
    and like grapes, sweet and delicious, roll them... more »