The Pro’s band took a break in between sets, and I sat there looking at the four shot glasses, knowing exactly who I chose but I needed to get them separated so the pressure was off of me. Looking at...

I felt like a homeless in the banquet of life I fed on leftovers Of what angry gods had left.

If my paper would speak,what would it say?Would it push away my pen if I write today?And how would the paper feel? Maybe it would feel oh so special.Because I carved in it words so sweet.Maybe it would fear my...

An Old Gramophone Lullaby for the Midnight Orchid of the BoweryI love Central Park in the Fall. The city feels fresher and cleaner for some reason. As I walked past the Zoo, I heard a kid crying. I remembered...