Three recent poems.
Here’s a story: Up on the twelfth floor: Assassin at the door and his expression is dour The wake-up call woke him early a.m. and he always worries his gun will jam at the critical instant. He’d kill for a coffee. Maybe he’ll check the cupboards, after the deed is done.
That statue’s on a lean.
do you suppose the artist meant it?
Do you suppose the artist leant it that way?
And, if so, what does it mean?
making demands from a reclined position.
why don’t you do a goddamn drawing yourself?
What are you,