Sure, ask who died, and ask why J… Won’t have Brad’s baby, whom she’… Read how the princess slept with h… See Mary’s image on a slice of br… Get proof that so-and-so’s a murde…

Don’t Tell Me Birds are Kin to… The birds of course, are kin to yo… I’ve seen a lover-loser, proved to… Attack the ground, as Xerxes span… He bruising water, the bird, its t…

The Pathetic Fallacy Mitigated (An exercise in near-rhyme) To liken buying blue-chip stocks To squirrels hoarding nuts is bosh… As wrong as claiming dogs can blus…

She believes in doing things right… She would do anything for anyone i… it helped a person be closer to he… She would never eat a lamb chop wi… just as pork hocks must accompany…

I Defy the Cosmos This cosmic clutter wins no beauty… As ob-jet d’art it’s mostly gaudy… Like those on Christmas trees, ex… And kitchy rings at which the tast…

Freedom* Now, the fathers, having suffered… gave unto their begotten plowshare… seeds that their begotten might also pro…

He makes a mild volley, teasingly, with a wry smile, condescending to her female fragil… but she strokes a rather sharp ret… whereupon he responds a little har…

My myths have talking ducks and dogs mice making Roman arches in the baseboa… burglars

The role itself arouses smirks. I picture mine in a doorway, slightly stooped, worry-faced, hands wringing an apron, peering at the thing she hatched,

I am 88. I need much equipment: I need my walker so I can shuffle about, a lift chair to stuff me in the wa…

1951: Ice-varnished streets, the s… as a young woman accordions her an… into the back of my treasured blac… She, head through glass, carmine-s… while the cops look over the two c…

Don’t shock me with your atheistic… God gave us all a book that proves… And serves us as a guide for all w… excepting parts that don’t make se… God serves us like a good psycholo…

(George Meredith advised Thomas Hardy to fill his novels with bizarre and exciting people and events. Subsequently, Hardy in an early novel had a person following a person following a ...

An Abomination* Ice-gleamed streets, sky an ebony… and a girl accordions her tiny car into the back of mine. She, carmine-streamed, head throug…

Our voices hushed, we slip into the narrow, gloomy room, a taper on the back-wall bar the only source of light. Lou leads us to the wooden chairs,