It’s the easiest way   Daddy boils tomatoes, the redness bobs in the pot like balloons released in the wind, sailing towards home. He stirs, wooden spoon an oar in treacherous waters. Until splat, a bubble bursts and lands on his arm. He cries out….

The mystery The rest have left, their unspoken music still haunts the corners at the tops of the walls, catches then reverberates in the curves and hollows of the art glass shade and rattles the broken element in the fixture And the taps are empty…

Hour Three 1:23 Layers droop precariously from form like draperies obscuring the world from the frame I had held like photograph- with peeling laminate ironed over like wax paper leaves and never comes back. The covers fall from mattresses skirting the hardwood floors methylene chloride…

Looking around the empty house that belonged to my mom.  Memories scream in my mind. I see the bedroom she died in.  The bed was 40 years old, it was what she and my father slept in all these years.  She looked frail and alone,…

The Hit The next occurrence Of several mowed down, by poems, biographies self-help tomes, and novels By a perp lit by lit With an entire trunk of books Will be the first Now stand aside I am a pioneer, an influencer, a marksman of a…

A Mystery at the Cottage in the Wood Who’s been eating our porridge? Who has broken this chair? The victims gathered evidence Meticulous with care From the spoon they lifted fingerprints Took splinters from the chair Could they obtain DNA From that strand of yellow…

Thief   There is a reason they seem heartless At one time or another a thief came They stole love, they stole hope They stole the very breath of life Leaving nothing in return There was no insurance There was no illusion of safety Just…

Case file open, ready for solve Apartment door unlocked A mystery to resolve Empty room, wheelchair middle A shrine of color sitting atop A confusing riddle The sun may have been shining through that window this morning Until one let out a scream And as…

It wasn’t much of a mystery. The facts were plain as day. She had opened the door of her life …just a crack. And the culprit stole her heart away.

Crawdads. Nawlins. Crawdads in Nawlins. ‘No one even says that here,” she says having been here many times dancing along the French Quarter eating red beans and rice coming in and going out on the Ponchartrain ‘You sound like another tourist,’ she wails while we…