All posts in "Max"

Straight Butter

Published November 27, 2017 in LA Stories , Max - 0 Comments

Straight Butter

She had engraved the knife 

As a one off trial

To see how it played.

The irony was lost on her.

She’d left it behind.

Now that she was gone

And Max had the house to himself.

He could leave the dishes

And slather “happiness” 

All over his bread.

Possibility is best served toasted,


Chips and Bitters

Published November 24, 2017 in I Don't Even Know , LA Stories , Max - 0 Comments

Chips and Bitters

I liken you to a janitor

The way you mopped

The floor with me.

Closed the door on me,

All the while

Saying you adored on me.

And I liken you to a cold syringe 

The way you needled me

Injected me

Infected me with a virus

That protected me

Until you rejected me

All the while

Peeking through 

The peephole 

Smiling on the other side

Of the door.

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.

At the Museum

Published July 18, 2017 in Max - 0 Comments

At the Museum

“Parking validation is for three hours.
Personal validation is also available upon request.”

It was a joke, obviously, the receptionist had made before.

Max took the parking ticket.

He was thinking of a similar joke, but not for him.

There was a more attractive
young woman
he was hoping for.

Fortunately, her shift had ended.

Fear of Falling

Published July 15, 2017 in LA Stories , Max - 0 Comments

Fear of Falling

Max knew.

It was over, but how to extricate himself?

He held on tooth and nail because he loved her.

But also, because he was afraid.

She was his bridge from fringe dweller,

sleeping on the floor,

to man,

living in a house, sleeping on a California king,

driving a car he wasn’t ashamed of.

On Maple Street

Published June 21, 2017 in Max - 0 Comments

On Maple Street

It was the summer of the lonely cicada.

Silly insect miscalculated and came out too soon.

Instead of the deafening chorus with all his brothers,

it was him alone.

Singing for a female who was sound asleep.

Max felt the exact same way,

born in the wrong epoch.

Longing for times of Tommy gun simplicity.

Hard Nose

Published June 19, 2017 in Max - 0 Comments

Hard Nose

Somehow, somewhere, Max got the idea that things should be easy.

And when they weren’t; God, Mercury in retrograde

and the universe were plotting against him.

After being the victim of years of these plots,

he, one day, had a realization.

Maybe, he was wrong and everything was difficult.

That was liberating, but required work.

200 Thread Count

Published June 13, 2017 in Max , NY Stories - 0 Comments

200 Thread Count

Monica came from Munich with the baby.

And she was already pissed off.

Complained about the sheets and the pillow cases.

Max hired a cleaning lady to clean the whole house and washed the bedding two times.

She insisted, “It still smells like man head!”

Cologne was out of the question, her head would’ve exploded.


Published May 9, 2017 in Max - 0 Comments


And penniless.

Where have all the flowers gone?

Gone to weddings, everyone.

When will they ever learn?

Max opened her letter slowly, dreading what it might say.

It was only one page.

There were the usual turns of love and longing,

but the handwriting was sloppy and distracted.

He knew and actually was rather relieved.

Doin’ the Laundry

Published April 18, 2017 in Max - 0 Comments

Doin the Laundry

Rose from volunteer to manager.

Gratified he had arrived.

Had vision and plans.

One evening the boss showed up unexpected.

Handed him a brown paper bag.

Peeked inside to see 4 wads of 100 dollar bills.

“I need you to run that through the register”, he said firmly.

“And take a little something for yourself.”