Archive for January, 2014


Posted: 01/23/2014 in house of fools

jerry rented a movie, but never took it back.

now the blockbuster closed and ain’t nothing in there

but a few tipped-over racks.


jerry, you jerk,

may you die of guilt, alone under the overpass.

may your thing fall off,

may you kiss my ass


for promising my dog an in-n-out burger and then welshing.


a 55 for the G Man. WordPress says this is 55 words on the nose, cos it counts the hyphenated stuff as one word. I’m too shy to contradict.  –Coal


Posted: 01/17/2014 in house of blues

it probably wouldn’t kill you

to say something nice to me, now and again.

it probably wouldn’t end

civilization as we know it.


it probably wouldn’t kill me

to stop wanting those words

so much, from you.

it probably wouldn’t kill me to try to find them

from someplace and somebody new.


so why does it feel like it would?


Posted: 01/13/2014 in house of love, Uncategorized

all i got to say is

you better be dead.

you better be in a ditch someplace,

out of your head


cos if you coulda called

knowing i was here waiting on it

what does that say about how you treat me?

it says plenty.  it says it all.


i got to ask myself,

do i really still feel the same?



hello? baby?

what happened?

sit tight, sweetheart.

i’m on my way.

bad-ass owl

Posted: 01/12/2014 in house of crazy, house of love

Image 4i got a bad-ass owl

makes no distinction

between the high of my arms

and the high of the trees.


she sit down at mama’s sunday table

lookin pretty and tearing meat right off the bone,

holding her end of conversation

and her food down with her feet.


my bad-ass owl

sleeps through church and chores,

but at night she sees what none can see

and then she comes to me.


for Margaret’s orb thing at Real Toads



crazy emmie bought teacher’s chalk at the five and dime,

went out in the six inch snow and wrote love letters to biker anne

on the sidewalk.


they all said, “anne honey,

i saw a blue star out the back window last night

and i know it means that this year will be different.


do you remember the barn owls and how they looked like taloned angels

those nights we made love and the scents were

straw, saddle soap, horse feed, and us?


baby, i’m not always crazy,

sometimes winter only stays the month–

if march is kind, i could still be your girl,

before time circles the night and i never see you again.

i love you now as i always have.




every year she swears she won’t steal money for the chalk,

go out barefoot in january

and have to spend two weeks up at reed city,

but some resolutions fall like flakes, pretty and helpless

under their own fragile weight.


for Real Toads.