When I think of what “perfection” means to me, it’s always the same image; A circle of dough, cooked just enough for its crust to sing; A layer of sauce, tart enough to be interesting, but mild enough not to burn; A layer of cheese…

Crispy Too Crispy That’s what they invented milk for To De-crispy the cookie Not that it’s a cookie-cookie Because it’s a ginger snap Rather, they are ginger snaps Extra emphasis on the plural: snapS They don’t really snap though They are much too crisp Not…

I love a woman A rare flower in the sun My inspiration

There are a few things They never tell you in the guidebooks Things they don’t want you to know About this paradise we call home They don’t tell you about the three inch flying cockroaches That fly by night and hit your window glass with…

What do you want for dinner? Food. Seriously, could you be more specific? Edible food. Really? I don’t know, what have we got? And so begins the ritual… Listing every ingredient, the endless contents of cupboard, fridge, freezer, shelf. Bantering possibilities… Chicken? We had that…

How does one grieve for a living soul Whose eyes are open Soul closed Ever shrinking from the light of knowing In a cataract blurred reality of who of what of why   Capped Ice pursuing life pushing down life Polar darkness pilfering all pulmonary exhalations…

HOUR THIRTEEN POEM # 13 24 HOUR POEM MARATHON WHICH ROAD DO I TAKE? Two roads divided by one toll booth, My feet no longer spray of my youth. One road new modern shinny and bright, The other old and worn filled with blight. My…

I ordered Chinese  food tonight, we gobbled up chicken balls, rice, ribs and chow mein Stuffed to the gills oh just one more bite, I’m going to explode another egg roll? Hmm I think I just might I can’t eat no more let’s put it…

In this the 14th hour Lord I surrender all to you, I give you my all oh Lord, I am empty, I pour out every thing to you, I will withhold nothing, I give it to you, My deepest regrets they all belong to you,…

Wind up my key and watch me dance in torpid trance in manacle mechanical   Pull on my strings and make me leap in waking sleep in bondage held by hand propelled   I pray Drosselmeyer’s pity painted pretty naught but a doll plaything to…