Ghazal—
The wine-dark pain spills over, in my bed alone.
In nighttime stillness is my heart beset alone.
To a Self-Proclaimed Manic Depressive Ex-Stripper Poet, After a Reading
Remember: you are a blank page
no amount of shopping can cure.
One night you go out in tassels
and the next like a nun, but we still
love you. Can’t hold your liquor?
My Father
My father was a whistler and a penny
lobber. He had no use for the lowest
denomination of hard money, so handing
pennies to him for change was followed
by a quick coin toss to the sidewalk.
Lawyer Poets, Poems, Tributes
What Is Your Idle Job?
—question (with typo) in a mass email’s subject line I wait for lunchtime at my desk, spinning like a boy
Anniversary
I was crying in front of the Quick Trip
because I was out of cigarettes
and left my wallet at home and
it was my anniversary and so it was