Monthly Archives: October 2017


Published October 30, 2017 in LA Stories - 0 Comments


Was a badass guitar player.

Like the huntress,

only her Strat was her bow.

And her solos were the arrows

she shot into the night.

When they gigged at the Bowl,

all the wild children went crazy.

She channeled that

into a blistering lead

that floored it off the bandstand.

The moon shone brightly.

Louisville Slugger

Published October 27, 2017 in LA Stories - 0 Comments

Louisville slugger

“Hey batter, no batter, hey batter, you can’t hit.”

Bat, listen to me. I need you now.

Come here, I kiss you.

Swing and a miss.

I bite you!

Just make contact, that’s all.

Foul ball right field line.

Pretty please,

with sugar on top.

I lick you.

One base hit, It’s all I ask.

The Principle

Published October 21, 2017 in Max , Ophelia - 0 Comments

The Principle

Ophelia was frantically packing all the things

that she could justify as being hers.

Which was basically everything.

After 15 years of marriage,

Max was left with the toaster

and 4 plates.

In her haste she threw away

on unopened bottle of dipping oil.

What you might have on fresh bread.

Max took it out of the trash,

why let it go to waste?

She saw he had saved it

and threw it back in the garbage.

Rather it wind up in landfill

than with him.

The Forger

Published October 17, 2017 in LA Stories , WB - 0 Comments

The Forger

Some of the best criminals

don’t choose it as a career path.

They don’t wake up one morning and say,

“Yeah, I want a life of crime.”

They gradually fall into it one little compromise

and action followed by another until

they’re in too deep.

WB’s Max Ernst sold for five million

and it fooled even the most

discerning collectors and dealers.

It was the dirt he put in the painting

that he collected from an attic in Barcelona.

Just Deserts

Published October 15, 2017 in Jack Sprat , LA Stories - 0 Comments

Just Deserts

God works in mysterious ways.

Rashes, sores and pestilence.

How people love to make him responsible

for all manner of random.

Then search for the meaning why.

Was it retribution or reward?

A death in the family,

the whole block burned but their house was spared.

The tree was struck by lightning and the sap exploded

sending shrapnel towards the house.

In the window was their coat of arms

it took a direct hit and smashed to pieces.

They’re cursed now for a whole generation.

Watching the Trains Go By

Published October 13, 2017 in Hobos , LA Stories - 0 Comments

Watching the trains2

Red ball, line of freight cars

big as a football field.

Standing on the platform,

smoking a cheap cigar.

Thinking about the next stop,

forgetting all the last stops.

No home to settle down,

No savings to fall back on.

There’s no 401Ks for drifters.

History doesn’t care for those who ride the Cadillac grainer.

At the Lake

Published October 10, 2017 in Mickey - 0 Comments

At the Lake

Mickey overestimated what he could do.

Like we all overestimate ourselves, sometimes.

The lake didn’t seem that big,

except he hadn’t exercised in over a year.

Just dove in an decided impulsively to swim across.

It wasn’t that bad getting over there,

it was the swim back that got him.

Midway, the wind picked up

and water kept getting forced into his mouth and nose.

Bargaining with God,

“Just let me make it back,

I’ll never drink again.”

Teen Spirit

Published October 7, 2017 in Jack Sprat - 0 Comments

Teen Spirit

Decided to drop acid and climb the maple tree.

Jack brought his french horn.

Jerry got the bright idea that they should

bring down the telephone pole

in front of the post office with pruning sheers.

They snapped off as they went for

the main support cable.

Thank God that didn’t work out as planned.

Ghost Dancer

Published October 6, 2017 in LA Stories , Ophelia - 0 Comments

Ghost Dancer

“You know how old the office is.

She came for a treatment and had a visitation.”

“It was a woman though.”

“Everyone who works there knows Fred.

He’s a spirit that everyone has seen.”

“No one has ever seen a woman before.”

“Apparently, she had some kind of cough.

Hacked and hacked like a smoker.”

“Fred would never smoke. He’s a dancer.

We’ve seen him Tango, I kid you not.”


Published October 5, 2017 in Arizona Stories - 0 Comments


“You’re one fat rabbit.”

“Yeah? And your point is?”

“Just that you are one large rabbit.”

“I like to think I’m portly.”

“My point is you are the most epic rabbit this side of the Rockies.”

“Oh, I see, you’re a rabbit ass-kisser, that’s what you are.”

“Just big boned really, I thank my mother for that.”