A limerick on the occasion of Texas governor Greg Abbott’s positive test for the SARS-CoV-2 virus.  read

Today is America's day, and what's more American than Coney Island? I have a poem for Coney Island, so, by the transitive property, this poem is also for America. And like America, it perhaps contains some bad words. [ click...  read

Last January I staggered and collapsed. I landed flat on my back, snapping my scapula. But I can't be that mad. After all, assonance will happen.  read

Nail salon workers Lined up in a row of five Taking a selfie  read

Oreo packet, rip'd open and crush'd on the subway floor. Tragic. —for the kid in all of us  read

Tourists in Times Square Blocking the sidewalk to gape At an ambulance  read

Little neighbor girl Waving to a cardinal: "Parrot! Hi, parrot!"  read

This poem debuted live at Tuesday Funk #48 in Chicago on September 4, 2012, the same day it was written. I've submitted it to a few editors since then, but since they (probably sensibly) turned it down, my birthday present...  read

Homeless man feeding his McDonald's French fries to pigeons. Share the wealth.  read

What is the sound of one hand clapping? What is the sound of a tree falling in a forest? What is the sound of a story without a reader? What is the sound of tears on my typewriter keys?  read