That cinnamon, autumn afternoon Linda Ronstadt crooning “Blue Bayou” through the speakers of the stereo You and I curled up under a beet-red blanket on the floor of your daddy’s carport Cigarette smoke still lilting from the ash bucket twists around the naked lightbulb above…

Im a fading phantom traveling in the wind I am God related, jesus is my twin. My eyes are soaked with streets of smoke, The feel of having less is real. Silence dies, the city cries. I hear the songs of sacrifice. Marihuana scented wiffs,…

so much depends upon the teal and cinnamon cruisers with their elk-antler handles elbowed in on the cobblestone bridge with the row houses jacketing the street and our satisfied tremors of delight as we clamber up onto the bikes. First line taken from William Carlos…

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The smell of cinnamon takes me back to the baking day we had before you left. I climb atop an overturned 5-gallon bucket to reach the top shelf in the carport and the crate that holds your belongings. Tremors visit my hands as I don…

All l hear is a crazy thought Replaying over and over In my head In my head All l dream is undecided Written in greylead With a rubber handy With a rubber handy The future dances, all halls and plans I will catch it I…

Words in the Bayou Watching you discard the raw beet left from dinner I pull my jacket tighter closed against the bonfire smoke To dispel my tremor from this October evening Do you recall our last night upon the bayou? Walking hand in elbow in…

Her favorite jacket is stained beet red, The same crimson that is running down between her fingers As everyone around her stares in tremor. At this point, the color is enough to stain a bayou, flowing down to her elbows as she runs to find…

Humble artist, shine your light on the world of worlds. A fashion show in all its ceremonial glory, Preaches about the encroaching  deadlines of life. Poised for a wedding, captured and still, detail makes beauty. View the tiny marks, tails upon tails. Of questions and…

My best friend plays the organ A sad and somber song The crowd, all dressed in black, Just trying to be strong   I straighten up my Windsor knot And stare at my reflection Try one last time to cover Every little imperfection   I…