They moved in on Sunday, a bright and sunny day, the first black family on the bloc… They drove up in two U-Hauls and slowly carried furniture

Outside, the still of crickets. Inside, petals of a cold sore foliate,

Been in trouble all my life childhood through old age. I took the alleys

After the TV mavens had their say the gnomes crept out of their cave… spoke and returned to their caves. Thunder struck, hell broke loose and the mavens came back on TV

If I hadn’t died, I’d still be bouncing along in that Greyhound bus through the mountains swigging a Coke.

My boss has a problem with God or rather a problem with me because I believe in God and he doesn’t. Or so we discover

Fred and Martha have always voted the same way since their marriage long ago but not this time and Fred wondered why Martha was voting the other way

They’re widows, old and gray, bent over a quilting frame, sewing to meet a deadline for the next raffle

Phone rings. Wilbur answers it. “This is Grace. Is Thelma there?… “No,” says Wilbur. “She’s out won… “You mean wandering about?” ‘No, she used to wander about. No…

“Quiet, please,” I tell her, “I want to hear the music.” She is sitting next to me again, this time on a paisley couch, a woman in a lime bikini I met

Wally and Fred voted in the big election and then went to O’Leary’s Bar for a couple of beers. O’Leary’s is where men who work for the city go after every important election. Chicago ha...

It’s time to leave the man alone. He’s getting old, his wife says. He’s really slowing down. He’s always been a man occupied with one thing

If a marriage doesn’t work out you get a divorce and look for someone else. If a poem doesn’t work out you put it in a folder and

I’m amazed at the difference between my friend and me. His response to life is so different from mine. I live deep in the city

After the poetry reading the lights go on and a lady under a big hat rises behind dark sunglasses and asks the poet why