PoetryA collection of 12 posts

A few lines in support of the proposition that a little whiskey never hurt a poem.

You used to be such a sweet boy, tell me everything, ask me all your questions. What happened to you?

Sometimes it takes a very special terrier to remind us humans that we’re more alike than we may want to think, and to bring out our latent civility.

A poem written on the occasion of encountering an online news article featuring a close relative.

Some memories you can’t outrun no matter how far you travel, and some wounds even time cannot heal. So deal with it, you mope.

A poem written on the occasion of moving back to Queens after years away, and once again riding the N train.