Sing to Me of Gangsters

by | Jan 11, 2011 | Creative Non-Fiction

So, kid, whuddya see? I looked forward to him coming by every night in his big black limo, handing me a fiver for a three-cent Daily News and asking me the same question. And every night I had a different answer. It was like writing poetry, coming up with a different...

Squeeze

by | Dec 28, 2010 | Poetry

if you squeeze my left knee everything will be all right even death for a little while i already own my own last suit but there is nothing to cover me with when you squeeze my left knee no acknowledgment can ever make me whole holes being the whole of me if you...