Thank God
You were mostly next door, glaring at the mass of nondescript sports-club-people, perched high above their matching neon t-shirts in your glue-studded platforms.
JAKE
Lost Arts
[N]o one knows how to make homemade pierogies anymore.
Troubles
The bar had seen more ivory knocked loose than a Zimbabwe poachers convention.
Light Switch
And I just say, “Do it.” It comes out of me like it’s not even me, and now I’m terrified.
seventeenhundred
Previously published in "you stupid slut" (out of print)
pantoum for not drinking at home
After MNJames
national bohemian, renegade poet laureate of baltimore city
who else can trace the cracks in every midtown dive