Bill would come every Sunday to his mother’s house after a tough divorce. He’d bring his laundry for his mother to do and then he’d devour the roast beef dinner she always made for him....
She’s been a widow a year now and at times she still misses him when she drives past the steak house where he
Solid middle class he is always has been always will be until tomorrow on the highway
He tried so hard to be everybody’s friend, agreed with everything we said. Some of us liked him, others were indifferent,
An hour a day, sometimes more, I chipped away with mallet and chisel on a block of marble
Puerto Rican girl thin, thin, let street lights pour bourbon on your hair, anise on your skin.
In your mind you hear words snarling all day long but no poem arrives. The words are locked
Tattoos were anathema in ‘52 on any man who got one after an all-night drunk or to impress a girlfriend. But not a word was spoken to
If you write with a quill, ballpoint pen or typewriter, you’re a lucky soul. But if you use a computer and write far better than
He publishes poems by writers who find no publishers elsewhere. They suffer rejection and he gives them hope.
Trumpelstiltskin is a fairy tale not written by the Brothers Grimm… It’s written every day by Fox and… America hears it every hour and half the nation loves it
On Saturday mornings several bowed citizens gather on the sidewalk outside the clinic to read the Bible and pray.
Aaron loves the show on television about antiques. Tonight they have a Grecian vase worth close to a million dollars. Aaron has stuff in the basement
Before dawn Bill stoops under crimson leaves of the low-hanging Japanese Maple
Tea in the afternoon with his wife of many years is usually peaceful, Hubert thinks before he makes his announcement. Then he says it. “I’m going upstairs,” Hubert tells Ruth as he hois...