As Do I

This is a Late Night Poet Art of Seduction write for a rainy Friday. I wade into her watery hairnude, … More

Poetry Thrives

My poetry pays rent in a pop-up tent
under a busy overpass,
growing like marram grass by a brackish sea.
It dwells in the mosaic empty spaces left behind
by winter’s nudist trees.

Iguana Boy

Iguana Boy,climb all over me.Scratch my back with your keen claws;my skin loves agony. Iguana Boy,there are several ramps to … More