sometime last night inside my box of poems he slipped the yellow hand-written note   My name is Gary, too. I have just come from the...

At some point, he’ll stop pawing my arm for a pet or wet kiss me and leave a bit of slobber on my lips   there’ll be a time when a spin...

the worst time to write a poem is after arguing with the electric company about your bill, trying to change a wrongly ordered size of...