Why Write Poetry ... Why Not? This is the closest I'll get to something "manifesto-ish." I also talk about Minor Poets ...

2020 kicked us in the face. 2021 crushed our toes. Here comes 2022. Don't flinch. Let's see how it goes. 2021 was a year of vaccines and...

"Still out here in the wind and rain ... A whole lot older but I feel no pain." Warren Zevon Fifty-four for the love of ... It’s that time again. Hoped I'd Forget, but that never Takes place. My Youth far out in my rear view. Fast forwarding, moving closer to the end Of it all. As I race to that line and Using my last breath, I Resolve to make death laugh with me before tapping my arm and covering me up.

This poem is part of the WEARING A MASK series, sponsored by the great folks as Silver Birch Press, an independent publisher in Los...

He had the answer ready to the question asked. He slides out of the MRI machine. Two women peer down, looking gravely concerned. “How old are you?” they ask. “86,” he says. They pause. He waits at the other end of the pause for grave news. “Why do you look as young as you do?” “My wife,” he says. No hesitation. Now in the kitchen, he takes her hand, still calls her kid. She knows and treats him no differently. They just want it to be as before, before the cancer began eating