Red Tin Noodles

Far away in the nearest corner where the brown hot orange tree swung its globe the grass unburned was shaded green and dark below the hanging wood. A single bound dislodged the fruit and stripped … Read more

He choked at the fishbone market and froze up the watering place. His lies were little lessons, terribly unscientific but frighteningly real. Sputtering vile mare’s nest! He sank in his own filthy dreams, reeking of … Read more

(snow belles shuffling in their frozen dive, jock frost chipping at your glow) There was never a time like this. Elves on the shelves, toys for the boys And girls, and even the animals, Nipping … Read more

I thought I was abed. I felt it in my head. The pillow hard but round, a rock upon the ground. The blanket leaves and weeds, sufficient to my needs. The breeze my temp control, … Read more

The street is wide enough for dreams and sounds appropriate, suggesting poolside guilt in cellar bars and anglo plays, with subtle buzzing urged by those who know in yards of green felt heaven beneath smashing … Read more

Bob was Bobby ’til he learned of palindromes. For his living spaces, he sought motor homes. His history was built upon deceptions. He’d been to some Republican receptions. And on his wall a Spiro Agnew … Read more

Kid, they will write on your back, scratch your name on the walls with your own petrified eyelids. They told me and they will tell you to climb up and jump down. Stares, vague and … Read more

That I cannot play the guitar any better than I do after fifty years of trying’s disappointing. Bad hand neurons. Brain lanes blocked by Mighty Mouse and Whitey Ford. My only little league hit was … Read more

The bespectacled one is out flying his kite, losing his house keys, adding some weight. Surely this storm will make the diary. Poor Richard is, of course, asleep early, dreaming of swimming the English Channel. … Read more

All I want for Christmas is a gun, just like little Ralphie, except real. Armor-piercing bullets would be fun, and a barrel made of polished steel. Santa, bring me ammo clips, body targets, liquor nips. … Read more

Whose dusty boots are those, standing at attention in the car stripped of its plumage near the desecrated rag? The ground, so hard in the winter sun, a pellet in the soft heart of a … Read more