Teach Me How To Dougie Is About Diogenes Syndrome, Right?

So through the comfort of familiar company I slipped into my old demeanor like a favorite pair of jeans. It was the ease of it, the simplicity of not having to begin again when meeting somebody new, of knowing you were known if even for the slightest...

March 22, 2017

"Her name is Cecilia," She said. "We call her Cee-Cee."   "Turning two this May...like you. Yeah, the 9th. That's crazy, isn't it?"   "She's nasty. Sometimes I worry I had another you."

Oh My God, They Killed Kenny (aka He Deserved It.)

I live for those long 6am cab rides chasing the sunrise home, when street lights dim the way and the world slowly lurches from the warm shade of night into the judgmental eyes of morning.   But there's still some time   ...

How Do You Throw Grenades?

Such bold and violent little mortars. Silent killers on a timer that explode like an idea. Bang and death and shrapnel compacted to a pocket; hand held hazards, lightning in a bottle. Portable paralyzers stun and blinding on delivery.   How do...

Father-...

Your days weigh more than the family around your neck.  Nine months and nine pounds without your voice or hand,  my mother called, and you said: “Give Him My Name, Noel.”  And she abided, faithfully, by the promises made that warm May night. But...

Knew Him Once, But Not Any More (Part I)

I've always admired the direness of distances. When I was in high school I would spend hours staring out the classroom windows at the long and infinite stretch of city, grass, and highway. The memory always rings with grey and cloudy skies, although...

Untitled Poem By Aileen Edwards

You're up late- drinking and you don't feel tired but you know it's time and you shut the tv off and it's like you're waiting for it to say: hey no... don't leave- stay. Then you realize how sorry you really are.

Ah! Perche Non Posso Odiarti

“Cover for me.” Elis’ voice chirped over the phone. “I have to use the bathroom.”   Once again Elis and I are wondrously out of love, wounding each other at every opportunity. The playground antics of pretending you don’t care neither of us...

An Ode To Darlings (My Skin Remembers You)

My lovers got subtle dips in her mood and thighs. Full of off-hand hang ups that mangle like cardboard on a rainy floor. Two dimples that wrinkle when my tongue does what it’s supposed to, with a joke or to her throat while keeping busy little...