Consorting With A Snake

You turned out to be
just an ordinary snake,
despite your colossal length
& preenful styling.
You took care of any rats
who had the nerve to come calling,
never brought brothers around
expecting me to entertain them.
Once I figured out
you had no plans to poison me,
I rather liked having you around.

For Izy’s prompt to the Real Toads: To Monster With Love


Abyss Mal

at the end of it all
you’ll see slate
specked with midnight
your calloused hands
clutching goose-kissed arms
nipples setting
against the scratch
of your woolen shroud
drops of sweat
spreading across your nape
   In the face
of such human sensations
it will take real gall
to listen for my voice
   don’t go without me
   don’t leave without me
   take me with you
but you will jump anyway

Go ahead and jump


Rest In Peace, Lou Reed

We lost the driver
of hope & busload of faith.
How will we get by?


Lust Pride

You cannot avert your eyes
so long as I wear this mask.
This is our secret surprise.
I won’t lie, so please don’t ask

for evidence of my sins.
I can’t begin to inform
your warm heart, the cold seeps in
if my sin’s mask goes unworn.

For Grapeling’s prompt to the Real Toads: MASKS



Gentle readers! I am pleased and proud to tell you that one of my poems ("with my good hand") is included in Precipice: The Literary Anthology of Write on Edge (Volume Two, Luck). I haven’t yet seen it (as I’m waiting all old-fashioned-like for my paper copy to be delivered by US mail), but I am to understand that my poem is the first entry, which makes my heart go all a-flutter. Pick up a copy (or get it for Kindle on the cheap) as it’s chock-full of great fiction and poetry.

The funny/fantastic women at Write on Edge asked me some silly and (potentially) revealing questions as part of their 5 Editors, 5 Questions series. Read it here:


Zephyranthes 百合科

awareness, the sense
of knowing the unknowable,
fruitful and exposed,
utterly expectant.

photo by Kai Yan, Joseph Wong (kaiyanwong223)

Tanka for Kerry’s prompt to the Real Toads: The Language of Flowers



Essence of mocking
Essential ethereal
kind edged
with gratitude for the slow
leaking of air
Borne of another plane
She sighs away--



Hand on my breast
gentle tapping underneath,
breathing the evidence
that I’m still here--

(Tanka for Real Toads.)


In The Coldest Hour

If we’re awake at 3 am
that’s when we go deepest
words drift like floes
away, then near and away again
We lie together, bellies flat
packed against the ice
tugging our shirts to warm
exposed waists, and there’s
so much sea below
so many sorries surrounding
The conversation is just beginning

For Hannah’s prompt to the Real Toads: Ice Caves


Rocking Talking & Walking

It’s hard
to be a rock star
with a Louboutin
lodged in your throat

Boot straps myth
never so apt
as describing my days
licking your heels

But thank god
as Nancy Sinatra advised
I remembered how to walk
on my own two feet.


A Woman's Pregrogative

When we're together,
sometimes I'd like to kill you;
others, rather kiss--


Hey, Operator

What if
you really could
crawl through
the telephone line
of my imagination?
Do you believe in magic?
Because I got some
right here
& I’ll share it with you,
if only you can get through.


Impenetrable Falsehoods

Gentle readers, I’m so pleased to announce the release via ALL CAPS PUBLISHING of a wonderful “small book of small fiction” by someone with big ideas: consummate liar, er, storyteller E.W. Storch: Impenetrable Falsehoods.
“In Impenetrable Falsehoods, E.W. Storch explores the human condition in an enjoyable, conversational style. The short fiction in this collection spans a wide range of topics viewed through an emotional microscope. From old love gone good and new love gone bad, the myriad experiences of war, growing old and facing one's mortality, dementia and depression, and what it means to be a writer, E.W.'s view of both the magical and mundane will transport you to worlds at once familiar and strange.”

My stone is small and fixed--
It runs the scope of language.
A channel of faded letters,
Through which my imagination comes alive.

Click here to purchase your copy of Impenetrable Falsehoods.
Eric’s modest to a fault, so much so that he’ll claim I demanded that he produce a book of short stories for ALL CAPS PUBLISHING. And I'll go along with it, because heck, whatever the genesis, now we have a gorgeous volume of his outta-this-world fiction to hold in our hands, read, savor, re-read, dog-ear, all of that. You’re gonna like this book. Please pick up a copy!
And also, visit E.W. Storch at his blog: Sinistral Scribblings


Birth Order

When’d you go yellow,
little sister?
From every spunky
liable to follow:
Rang tang lullaby
mystifies, terrorizes--
Let’s imagine
a bad middle sister,
yellowish, libelous
all the apothic madness
so we can flourish.

For Corey’s prompt to the Real Toads: Liquor is Quicker


Edit Sober

Inner Child’s too young
for pouring wine over,
bathing her in backwash
of too many words--

But she’s not too slight
to bear the weight
of mountains of apologies
for writing while drunk.


Eggshell Skull

Apply to the affected area
as needed, using caution
as repeated application
will cause thinning of the skin.

It’s a fine line between
thick-skinned and scabbing over;
scabbing leads to scarring,
and those scars are damn unsightly.

It’s hard to live with thin skin,
trying to avoid the stones,
the resultant bruising
and breaking down of things.

All you can do is hunker down,
guarding against what might hurt you.