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...