(1987)
Reprinted with permission of "Hellas," Vol. 8
#QuatrainDescriptive
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,
Poetry Editors To Poets Don’t send us dull pentameters; That stuff’s for Keats and other… Submit no rhyme, but heaven knows We hate a poem that sounds like pr…
Subject Matter (A tribute to Louise Glueck) I know that vacant lots and junk w… You had for playground in this fet… Where you were often marked for l…
At a photo op outrageous beyond be… Bush does a little jig between two… back from Iraq with artificial leg… (Oh, you victims, you crippled sac… if only one of you had leaned on…
A big brown dog, gray around the muzzle, lay in the front yard of an old h… between his front paws a tennis ba… As we walked by,
Suggest an early death deserves our envy, *Hardy wrote a book of short stories called “Life’s Little Ironies.” **Hardy was often cr...
Midwest Opera The local mogul, tall, horse-jawed… machine-tool king, accompanied by his grim chic wife, strolls down the aisle,
Once within his grinding life He’d had a chance at distant deeds That had no hint of daily strife, Of sticking doors, tenacious weeds… Of time cards, office drudgery,
The Lawyer to Mrs. Brown: “Did you have intimate relation wi… Mrs. Brown‘s reply:
They all seem old, with huge, bushy beards, their soiled rags incongruous in the sleek, polished chairs. Not allowed bundles
Give Me More Light Give me more light I’m getting desperate here, you kn… show me what you’ve got is Ann Landers still around?
Anna Nicole Smith (I would have been happy to let he… Had I not heard a little girl on… Smith could have been happy in Te… serving burgers and bedding rednec…
Intelligent Design? Verbalizer of finest thoughts, A soft, vulnerable thumb of flesh is rooted in the floor of a fetid… edged above and below the ingress
A poem should be allowed to say something; good ones often have. It isn’t by necessity a fakir’s cabalistic drone
Relativity at the foundry Behold the scene at the iron works Where whirls of girls and harried… Surround the boss, a man of vision… Who, visualizing a new division,