August 10, 2018

She knows every inch of the dance floor, as she heads for the pink light.

After the beat suffocates, melting into a stutter of funk, wet groins itching for a little bit of entrapment, they sink into their seats.

She wants to be real as her breasts ache, focusing on his mouth, not hearing a single word.

You're so lovely inside those eyes, she purrs. 

Inside her eyes, you’re so lovely she purrs

He burns his fingers wondering if he should laugh, f...

August 3, 2018

Let me take you on a culinary tour of my plot. 

I am happy with my selection of vegetables mostly tomatoes because I like to make marinara sauce from scratch.  In a pan of garlic infused olive oil add sliced tomatoes, throw in a basil leave, salt and pepper, cook and simmer until the tomatoes turn into a thick sauce. You can strain the sauce, or just take the basil leaves out and keep the traces of tomato skins that add essential roughage to one’s di...

In 1986, I was an exhibiting artist who wanted to work in the print media.  On a morning local TV show they spoke about LA’s best kept secret – Chicano art produced at Self Help Graphics in East Los Angeles, a non profit art organization run by a Catholic nun.

I called Self Help Graphics and to my surprise the nun answered the phone.  Short, direct weary but not unfriendly she suggested that I schlep my portfolio down, never making any promises.

My vo...

July 19, 2018

Sitting inside the black car

In the company of men

Boys in uniform

Looking good in blue

Revolvers out on spree

Taking their time

Flirting with red lights

They're taking me 

To the station

Underneath the criss-cross of the freeways

Where prison guards

Look over their shoulders

Ignoring the action

They make me stand

Smile in black and white

Pinning numbers

Blinded by the bulb

I can still hear the ringing of the gun

The skid of the tires

The slump of the body

That night


July 13, 2018


first instinct

setting free


jumbling up



painting all the what ifs


trained early

to read between lines

smoke signals

and detours

curbby turns

seductive plunges

safety net


from half truths 

and bitter memories

July 9, 2018

Oven at 350 degrees

rice pilaf slowly bubbling

I'm back in Germany 

in the large decaying kitchen

Luba cutting,mixing 

slow dance of repetitive motion

void of feeling 

just the need to feed and nurture

a group of convoluted characters

I'm the child with the golden locks

nestled between the hot oven

and a string of decayed rooms

hoping but afraid that Roman 

will appear 

slightly drunk

charming yet vindictive

Lanky and chiseled

matinee idol hitting bottom

guaranteed a...

July 4, 2018

one night on the boulevard

across from the Jaguar

I stopped pretending I didn’t see

cars slowing down

circling headlights signaling

giving me the right to choose

taste power

did I think then of father

sitting alone in the kitchen

body collapsing inside his clothes

hands tightly wrapped around his power

I didn’t figure then

that our thirsts were the same

nineteen and all I wanted to do

was master the steps

so I could join the dance

move to a tune

that I somehow


June 30, 2018

Sex used to happen in the afternoon

during that in between time

when the people I trusted would leave

abandoning me to the whims

of a man past his prime

well done meat dangling on brittle bone

I recall he used to draw pictures

of possibilities that I understood

but could not explain

watching as he substituted

human parts for toys

objects that grew in his hands

head jerking back mouth slack

drowning in the heaviness of the afternoon

A baptism of silence kept us jo...

August 10, 2016


In between grand people

with grandparents

parading their differences

airing the skilled impulse to penetrate

shake things up a bit

in front of an audience of one

the kid in the overstuffed chair

fills the room, absorbing everything

Microfilming the past

Xeroxing a portrait of dots

pigment confined inside circles

crowding the space within the image

next to the buttons dangling from tiny hands

eager to press and watch everything explode

into a mechanical t...

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