Still left searching for the light,I am but a regent in the night,crowned by a flickering flame,ruling all I dare to name. Facing fathoms thick with dread,I sail in search of a spark ahead—a single sovereign, bright and true,to pierce...

I've been to thebitter, dark placewhere dreams aredecorations indilapidated houses,a building haunted bythe ghosts of spring.I tasted the wine ofwhores and convictsthere.I've prayed with thebroken and wasted.I spentdays and months,almost forever withthe feral men andwomen of America inhomes not...

My friend asksme where I getthe fodder forwriting my poems.I tell him, life.He says that's toosimple.He isn't satisfied.I tell him thatsometimes, I sit atmy desk and openthe window above thelitterbox, and lookoutside at theorange daylilies andwait.He says he writesfrom...

Is it any wonder how writers,  even so young -  their faces tight and bright with sun,  their eyes agleam -  how yet they still succumb  to emptiness?  Their faucets dripping dry;  an empty sky,  no air; nowhere to...

(WARNING:  BRUTAL VIOLENCE.  ROUGH SEX.  EXPLICIT INDIFFERENCE)*** All Characters Over 18 ***“There she goes again.” “What?”  Sam looked at me innocently, sipping his whiskey with the last bite of steak. “You know what, so stop acting stupid.”  I kicked him playfully...