Blood and tits sell.

January 19, 2008


blood on tits
even better.


January 18, 2008



a new year thought

January 1, 2008


and Prosperity
for the Poor

(for a change)


When I Become Santa

December 14, 2007

We move operations south
to Newark, Watts, Bronx
East LA and ten thousand
other empty places.

We begin to make toys for souls.

Peaceful and playful
thoughtful and joyous toys.

unafraid and knowing –
we will walk this earth
giving gifts.

image source

no hard feelings

December 7, 2007

Saw a man jogging…
he looked like dad.

I tried not to wish
it was him.

I tried.


December 1, 2007


after playing in snow
he comes home
a confection

drooling purple

September 28, 2007

little vampire
brings his face to the toast
sucks in the jelly.

Viva Las Vatican

September 13, 2007

I was taught
only Catholics are saved.

I would worry
Elvis might burn in hell.

I did pray
for his conversion.

spermatozoa’s ark

March 5, 2007

carry chromosomal pairs
into our future


pretzel arm

February 21, 2007

I am one of those people who love to sweat. Whether running full stride on a warm evening or playing pick-up basketball in the steamy sun, it all seems very cleansing to me.

When I was young, I remember playing with friends, cousins, and siblings long after dark. We would play hide and seek, flashlight tag, and spy. Dirt rings formed around our necks and became badges of festive accomplishment – Doctor of Fun. We went indoors only when enticed by ice cream or threatened with the loss of privilege.

Upon entering the house, a ghostly light in the living room would reveal a gaggle of younger children already lying on the floor facing the television. Their bowls of ice cream sat protected in front of each of them. Quickly we’d run into the kitchen for our share and then peck our way onto the rug which had now become a beach.

As my body cooled, salt formed on the skin. I could lick my forearm like a big pretzel. It seemed a shame to take a bath and wash it all off.