Bitter Poems

ninety-nine names of God in a hat   choose what you need throw the rest back   take the God without image God without face distort him to service the cause you...

koi pond fish papaya hued glows like burning coal a drawn out ember orange under blue skinned water swims through tree limbs kissing robins flying in fallen sky floating beneath my eyes where for a...

thrumming chit-chit sprinklers hum mistaken for operatic crickets trilling lazy resort air as wrinkled splayed foot reptiles bow iguana heads like regal buddhists slowly roaming nirvana crossing thached pagodas unconscious tourists...

Your flesh was a glass chorus of cruel sirens who with every touch chafed the ribbons of my fingers raw. In your blue eyes I notched with a yellow...

last night, Rimbaud as the dream dogs howled you tripped on my creased pillow broke in a hundred poems across the floor cobalt hued… ocher, turquoise, vermillion glass glowing under moonlight’s...

the manual said so simple now even a housewife can do it. Fantastic, I thought. Let her.  *** BY NEIL BROSNAN: liberation

 Taking chocolate to a sushi bar was a crazy thing to do  She smiled her gratitude  Blackening her teeth like a Tokugawa geisha

oh memory childhood illusion behind what synapse the aroma of smoldering autumn fire suburban side roads softly gauzed in smoky light children’s saturday voices rising from yards family raked weekend chored to the status...

I go outside to drink a bottle of beer the air harsher than the moon up there doesn’t come down the cigarette has its...

bum feet street-beat wise sunk in banged up shoes previously dumpster swiped lean hobo soled holed haloed covered in foot funk sock stink grime   no blue suede shoes snappy tassel loafers…   gamy high-top sneakers here retro Corso’s weary worn down creased re-knotted raced in hiked trod...

This town is too small it strangles my walking it keeps me talking an old woman surreal on the brink of orgasm you have no place to hide once there...

nici nu mai stiu de te iubesc sau oboseala clipei e doar o amagire mai e un pic si se sfarseste lumea (numaratoare inversa) I don’t even know whether I love...

 splattered rabbit early a.m. remnant scarlet on the double yellow line inside out pulseless in a heartbeat Goodyear revolution of whitewall rubber triple ply tread sporting a brand new snazzy zig zag pelt bunny coat back...

line in the distance where two blues meet define their separate borders sky and sea open spline in the book of life sometimes clouds above white caps below the wind given life by...