Does he remember? Jenny, how could he forget? Thirty years ago you roared into his office and raged about your cousin’s
Covey of nuns without benefit of wimple graciously attired sport coat, turtleneck, skirt scurry through the airport
On Saturday mornings several bowed citizens gather on the sidewalk outside the clinic to read the Bible and pray.
It’s a simple procedure I’ve done for years many times a day. You’ll go home this afternoon, take it easy over the weekend,
They’re widows, old and gray, bent over a quilting frame, sewing to meet a deadline for the next raffle
Deep in the city where the poor wait for the Second Coming suicide is uncommon. No one leaps off skyscrapers
Pistols in holsters very early this morning. She’s wearing a bra Donal Mahoney
Walt told the cops later his moods come and go like crows on the high wire above his art studio. They land in a swoop,
They never held hands when they were a couple young and newly married as much in love as they were planning a wonderful life.
An hour a day, sometimes more, I chipped away with mallet and chisel on a block of marble
Wally and Stan neighbors on the same block for 30 years never had a problem until Wally asked Stan over
The last visitor before I sleep is always the old priest puffing up the stairs to my door, a wine cask under each arm, a loaf of pumpernickel in his teet…
Phil went to Memorial Park yester… on his crutches and saw new crosse… in the ground commemorating vetera… Must be a hundred more than last y… HIs brother’s cross is there, in…
A drunk on the subway tells another drunk something a bartender told him. He says if the rich guy wins, it will be the first time
Old Tim writes poetry now in his heaven of retirement. He’s had nice jobs over the years but swears retirement is better.