It's blank and oblong.

Your spray-on tan fades rapidly.

You’re thirsty as a Giraffe—all the time.…

The museum guard watches me as I look at the Degas.  Her legs are tired and her face is a sketch of shadows.  She is paid a little more than the…

Panting, exhausted, he didn't know how much longer he could keep it up?

"My God," he thought, "she must be typing 200 words per minute!"

Appeared at Espresso Stories in February,  2009 http://espressostories.com/author.php?author=2991

“Your words are in my mouth, again," she said, as if I had misplaced them.…

The doctor’s initial diagnosis had been wrong, and now, as he explained the “regrettable, but understandable” medical error—it had been a false negative---Denton’s physician couldn’t hide his cowish demeanor and litigation-avoiding tone of medical sympathy.  All Denton could hear at the end of what must have been a three…

From the delicate Yellowstone meadow, I waved to you as you waited safely in the car. You smiled at me, or was that a snigger?  Behind my back, 100 yards away, a silent magnitude hurtled in my direction.  Black-pawed shadow, running…

Nancy was beside herself with excitement. “I got two tickets to that new play,” she ecstatically told me. “I just LOVE the theater---it’s so much better than the movies, don't you think?”

 …

I hold the glossy-paged travel magazine so close to my nose, I look like a blind man reading a city map. Ahh, The promise of youth, beauty, and squeaky clean Eros.

 …

Nancy was drinking  49-Gallon martinis out of 50-Gallon motor oil drums.

“Those…

 …

Why is everyone so mean to me? LOL

The kids at school think I’m ugly. LOL

Sometimes, I think the President's an alien, cause of them ears. LOL…

“…although scientists have managed to deduce quite a bit about dinosaur biology, the nuts and bolts of dinosaur sex remained largely unknown—in part, because studying the sexual behavior of animals was taboo historically and the topic seemed so beyond the reach of science.”   I continued reading Scientific American with a heretofore unparalleled fascination, as I rolled the idea over in my mind and on my…

“I’ve gone out with a lot of gorillas in my time.  Monsters.  You’re not a monster are you?”

From where I stood her mini-skirt looked like a billowing circus tent (my God what a view) and although I couldn’t see them—they were obstructed—I imagined her breasts looked either like the golden hills of California or sleeping white elephants.…

"No, I am not wearing heels.  I am just a little under 49' 11," if you must know.  No, I don't want to sit down.  I want to dance. If you can't dance, then get out of my way."

I immediately slipped off my shoes, removed my socks, then placed my socks over the ends of my stilts. 

It was,…

I try to imagine her with much smaller hands, but it’s impossible.  There’s no denying that you could get lost in the arms of a woman like that.  I used to be a leg man, but not anymore.  Whenever she wants me, she just puts her lips together and blows. When she…

I tried to convince you that one is never too old or too married for a sleepover.  I assured you that I’m an artist.  

You replied, “I hate the way you draw,” then set fire to my stick men.

You know how it is when I’m around you. Fire alarm always on. Museum burning to the ground.

After the show, we’re standing in the rain outside Tweeky’s, waiting for lightning to strike that friggin’ club, like it’s long-deserved.  A wet fuse, it pummels down, digging pinholes in the glistening asphalt.  From under our tiny, shared umbrella, Walt’s whistling an inane disco hit, from the 80s, but I can’t stop thinking, I wonder what she looks like when she’s not dancing? The water continues to hammer down---a Biblical…

I posted a reading of "Honey Gets Her Wish" and a few other poems on Soundcloud.  "Honey..." began as a six sentence and later was published in slightly altered form at Third Wednesday.  You can here "Honey...," read by the author, here:

"Honey Gets Her Wish"

At my doctor’s office, the two surly medical clerks stationed behind the counter are unhappy. They’re supposed to be genial to patients, but they’re not.  They aren’t paid enough.   They hate everyone.

One has a drunkard  husband who waits at home for her, like a bear-trap. Two weeks ago, the other clerk’s 87 year-old mother jumped from the eighth floor window of her…