good dog

good dog the dog is dying that’s all we can talk aboutthe dog pees all over the living room floorand so we put plastic down and that’s all wecan talk about dolly was such a good dogwasn’t she but she’s not dead yet it’s all wecan talk about the not-yet-dead dog that isdying and peeing... Continue Reading →

Bulletproof pants.

Time for another spam poem! All lines were taken from my spam folder, and only punctuation and line breaks have been added. The fall of Saddam Hussein has brought destruction/Hell to our great country and everything is so difficult now and all our opportunities are closing up, the new Government is trying to frustrate all... Continue Reading →


Eighteen years ago, I first read Max Ehrmann's prose poem "Desiderata" in the room description of a MUD. It resonated deeply with me, and I tend to revisit it when my life feels like an ill-tailored suit. Desiderata Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As... Continue Reading →

obligatory romance day

FunkyPlaid and I celebrated Obligatory Romance Day with Burgermeister burgers and geocaching. It was a perfect San Francisco day, 65 and sunny. Dogs of all kinds trotted happily before their humans. We talked about what makes us unhappy about our present, what we look forward to in our future. I am lucky to be able... Continue Reading →

to be moved

I hadn't thought of you in a while, and right when I saw the lanky brunette swivel sideways in her plastic seat to let someone out, I thought of you, your skin and hair and bones, so taut and shiny. You were the epitome of "girl" in my world and if I had a crush... Continue Reading →


These words are mercenaries. They slouch outside the back door of this poem, clouds of frosty air billowing around their heads, belts and boots glinting in the flood lamp. When it is time, these words slip inside, carrying a box or a knife or an envelope. The hallway is dim. The recipient waits. A noise,... Continue Reading →

salad days

Despite all the wonderful prompts, this poem did not originate from one; it has been rolling around in my head all day, and must be let out. garnish me with more than green side to side start with white plate blue eyes flutter lashes long and cautious where do I find you fresh and warm... Continue Reading →

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