The storm began with the soft patter of rain, like the...
What to make of this slipper fancier, i.e., adorer, from a...
Bitter drink from a tree named to be consumed by immortals,...
Like a bead of water racing down the shower door, I...
And as the ice melts it falls from the upturned shaker...
The November we are fifteen we run away and the boys...
Who would dare ride those henpecked cocks of the walk?
Everything was sharp about Thomas Roberts.
That girl is a bundle of hot air, super-heated steam, held...
House creaks with every gust of wind;
Shadows are so admirable in film noir less so on x-rays...
For the white-bright sheets on Mother’s clothesline