Finishing my matinee I spoke to a friend — let’s call him “Trevor” — and Trevor recently visited a friend of his in another Continue reading Death, dying, the end, the light, and morbidity
My mistress says I do not write love poems,
Insisting that I write poems for love.
She questioned when received another note,
How come when towards the end Continue reading My mistress says
My mother used to embarrass my brother and I when we were kids—just by being loud, or provocative, or just being herself. When she passed away, my brother was really broken up about it—we were sitting on the couch, in our house in Florida. We were on the back patio, which was really beautiful—enclosed with french doors—that looked out onto the ficus tree and lake: (which had alligators, Continue reading She’s Still Alive