I am of the opinion that poetry should be read every day, of course. In honor of the official celebration I am publishing one of my lame poems. Lame, but fun.


Garter, blue racer, massasauga.

Your strange cold beauty

fills me with terror

ancient and unreasoned.

Why hide beside the garden hose?


Oh, all right, since you’re begging for another…..


Perished at the Prom

The girls walk stiff-kneed

blood drips from young mouths, skin is faintly blue.

They are coming for me, frilled dresses askew.


You’re welcome.