Sobriety
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The Construction of Words
Writing is not easy The words in my brain swirl around like balls in one of those bingo cages Turning over and over again waiting to be spat outB10 A36 D0Constructing Words Building a sentence A meaning Something that makes… Continue reading
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Reckless
There is no doubt I was a wild man (n.), although I never called myself/ A Bull in a China Closet/ the closest my friends/ at least the ones who used that word/ described me to my face. Others used… Continue reading
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golden tequila hangovers
The following poem was originally written in 1994, when Tequila was my poison of choice. I have been sober for fifteen years this coming September 11. wake up/if you canrolling over/from one deadday/into the nextyour moutha dirt filled trench/shoveled with/bad… Continue reading
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This Moment
In a moment (this moment or another?)I can see…feel…a shock of electricitypassing through my brain…conscious that it is only a momentpassing throughI am passing throughthis place…this time …to nowhere…not surebut passing throughnever to return again …and then…the moment is gone. Continue reading
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Resolutions
I’ve made my one resolution for 2026. I will have no resolutions What’s the point? I’m just going to break them in one week or one month or somewhere around May when it begins to get L.A. weather lovely, and… Continue reading
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When in Doubt, Reboot
There’s a favorite bit of advice in our household that was first delivered by our son at a young age. He always advised us to reboot whenever we had an issue with our computer, phones, or television. “When in doubt,… Continue reading
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Fat
I was inspired by “My body is a cage of my own making” by Roxane Gay. This essay is about me and no one else. There was no disputing the blood test results. I am more than pre-diabetic. I’m on… Continue reading
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drinking
Always the same stella with a cold glass, double patrón silver, really well chilled, salted rim,at the same bars but with different people.And a lot of times, the same people are drinking, wishing they had a cigarette between their fingersor… Continue reading
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long walks on
the feet are tired shuffling along rough roads streets that have not been repaved in a long time. the body carrying the memories of a childhood too long ago of teen years that are hidden in history books of sex… Continue reading
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La La Land
June 24, 1984. 41 years ago. Baltimore-Washington Airport. I said my last goodbyes to J Daniel Johnson, a friend I’ve known since 1972, after he drove me up from D.C. During the ride, all we could talk about was how… Continue reading
