The most satisfying sleep;

Is that which comes;


The expenditure of every last sinew of muscle;

The exhaling of every gasp of breath;

And the completion of a project you







Doubt is the beast beyond the door;

Just out of sight, but never out of earshot;

Gnawing and Grinning maniacally;

Doubt is the hound at our heels;

That spurs us forward;

To keep writing;

Even when body and soul demand a pause.



Eyes Bright

She had headlights where most women have eyes;

Two bright brown orbs dancing with light;

They draw you in, or at least;

They drew me in;

Now her head is lying on my breast;

Her curls rising and falling with every breath I take;

And it occurs to me;

We haven’t had “the talk”;

Is she gay?

Is she bi?

Is she straight, but rethinking that career decision once she ended up on my chest?

And then I realize;

I really don’t care;

As long as those beautiful eyes keep staring up at me from my breast;

She could have five husbands;

It doesn’t matter;

Because, right now;

She’s here with me.



Accidents and Insults

“Accidents don’t happen to people who take accidents as a personal insult,”–The Godfather, Mario Puzo

What would it be like to live out this line?

To treat;

Every mishap,

Every sling;

Every arrow of misfortune;

As an insult deserving of redress?

Would there be fewer insults?

Or less time to be insulted?




Primal Scream

In contrast to our past lovemaking;




Instead, we act;

My mouth goes to work on her breasts;

While her hand heads further down;

As does mine;

We stroke each other;

Faster and faster;


I am hers, I think;

I’m her bitch;


Our years on hormones mean that part of us doesn’t respond as fast it once did;

Which is okay;

We get to;






We are breathing through each other’s mouths now;


Each of our girldicks is at full mast;

We thrust into each others bellies;



We explode together

and I scream deeply and primally because

I’ve never done this with another person before

I’ve never let go like this






End of the Barbary Coast?

“Of its ancient glories nothing remains excepting a few battered facades, the tattered remains or signs, and the plaster nymphs and satyrs in the entrance lobby of the old Hippodrome, now befouled by dirt and penciled obscenities.”[1]

The Barbary Coast;

Having survived fire, flood and the Sydney Ducks;

Doesn’t die so easily;

The police can close its bars;

The Navy can ban its sailors from visiting;

But the Coast waits;

What it has to offer the people want;

The people will not be denied





[1] Herbert Ashbury, The Barbary Coast, p.314

Love Conquers None

Love doesn’t conquer all;

No amount of love is sufficient to donkey-punch Death and keep our loved ones with us and immune from the effects of aging and disease;

Even short of that, relationships where one or both of the parties thought they were in love end every day;

But we want to believe in the cliche;

We want to believe because it fits with everything we’ve been told about love and how it’s this magical force that will somehow make us whole;

What they don’t tell us about is fear;

Fear is the force to watch;

Fear can twist those we love the most into our worst adversaries;

Fear is what upends our placid arrangements;

We can’t stop fear any more than we can block an earthquake

All we can do instead;


Rebuild once it has passed.





Saving My Laptop

If I only had time to grab one physical object and save it from destruction,

It would be you;

Old friend;

Your keyboard is worn to invisibility;

It takes you longer to start up than  it does for my coffee to boil;

Your electronic seizures have become more and more frequent;

And your battery barely holds a charge;

Somewhere in your electric brain, do you think;

“Would she leave me behind?”

Give me more credit than that!

Without you, I could not have written a word for the last five years;

The highs and the lows, the victories and the defeats, the wins and the losses;

Have all been played out on your keys and on your screen;

Since you stuck with me, old friend, I’m sticking with you;

No matter what disasters may come.


Mermaid Sestina

On a quest for Love
swam the Mermaid
With hair of Curl
And eyes the color of the Moon
She avoided the Sun
And frolicked in the Ocean

Deep in the Ocean
Swam the Mermaid in search of Love
She avoided the Sun
So men would not catch the Mermaid
As she danced by the light of the Moon
And stroked her hair of Curl
The mermaid played her hair of Curl
As she frolicked by the Ocean
Guarded by the light of the Moon
On a fruitless quest for Love
Danced the Mermaid
As she hid from the Sun
The Mermaid avoided the Sun
And stroked her hair of Curl
In her element was the Mermaid
As she frolicked in the Ocean
In search of Love
Under a silver Moon
Beneath a silver Moon
And away from a golden Sun
Danced the mermaid in search of Love
She stroked her hair of Curl
As she cavorted in the Ocean
Danced the Mermaid
Lo, there lies the Mermaid
Underneath a silver Moon
Returned to her Ocean
She came too close to the golden Sun
No more to stroke her hair of Curl
No more to search for Love
The Mermaid could live only if she avoided the golden Sun
And danced under a silver Moon while she stroked her hair of Curl
For only in the Ocean, not outside it, could she find Love



We’ve never touched hands;

But I know you better than I know my neighbors;

Our eyes have never looked upon each other in person;

But you see me–and sometimes, through me–better than almost anyone else;

Through our electronic conversations  you’ve seen me at my worst and at my best and when I couldn’t make up my mind to be either;

And I have heard your struggles and your story;

At times I’ve been glad you couldn’t see me cry as you told me what you survived;

If I had one wish in compound parts it would be;

To hold you;

And make our pain stop.


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