…is still a poem. Found this one last week and thought I’d share. You know, because I can. Handymen By Cornelius Eady The furnace wheezes Continue reading A poem by any other name…→

Today, I wear red. The Big Game. The One. The Decider. I don’t much care which way it goes. I only hope for a good Continue reading Today, I wear red→

I rode a bike. Got lost by the mall roundabout. How the hell do I get past this? Went home. A kid yelled out his Continue reading I rode a bike→

Three words… Sometimes in life I find myself wondering why in the world are you fucking kidding me just how in the hell did I Continue reading Three words…→

Well, if my calculator watch serves me correctly, I believe it’s Thursday. Time for a poem. Perhaps, first you have time for a quick story. Continue reading About that time . . .→

The Wagon I sat in the front seat, she was driving. On a small back road we passed an Idaho farm. Mostly dust now, and Continue reading poem for Thursday…→

Nowhere to be. The crowd is closing in, grouping like a stockyard. Elbows are bumping, some hand grazed my hip. The air is getting thicker, Continue reading poem for thursday.→

He quit He told me once that he decided to quit smoking when he visited his father who had cancer in the hospital. He saw Continue reading He quit→

Recovery My pain is with me always. It is the last thing I feel before I fall asleep, and the first thing I feel when Continue reading Recovery→