[ ] I Hear My Heart Howl, and other love verses in b-flat minor
“LET ME snake my mouth / all over your puddle of mud / searching for the lost blade / hiding in your dirt; / let me crawl my tongue / seeking refuge in your forest / of misguided heat; / I am rife with fangs / that cut like lightning razors / opening you up / like a seashell’s womb / that embraces life after it bled.” –from, “Let me Snake my Mouth”
[ ] Red is the Color of my Night, poetry
“I WANT to squeeze this poem, / squeeze this poem so hard, / so hard... so this poem’s blood / will ooze and flow / and dye and shade all the colors / of the nights that separate / the beauty of the blue sky / from the grime of the black streets, / the blue tears in a daughter’s eyes left at home / and the black rage in a father’s heart / as he sets to fight a black&white war / in a brown land with a silver gun.” –from, “Black Poem, Blue Ink, Red Blood”
[ ] My Life as a Greyhound, prose-fiction
MY ROCK journey and sublime madness—wrapped around an Arby’s beef burger scored in Bristol TN, curled upon an Amtrak seat on my way to Pittsburgh from Cleveland, lost in Boston’s Fenway Park and Manhattan’s subway e-train, washed along the glittery grime of Huntington Beach and Venice LA, sideswept by San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf’s cod liver oils… Still crashlanding, seldom intoxicated but always dazed and confused.
[ ] Reminiscences, Rants, Ruminations… and more letters to the rain, musings in prosaic scribblings
EXCERPT: “The kids have grown up. Now, we look at ourselves on the mirror: What do we see beyond crooked lines on beaten flesh and those wearied eyes? We don’t really see the past… We only see NOW and TOMORROW. We can’t slip and slide anymore. The romantic adventurism and reckless bravado have all seeped through the cracks of ancient history. We realize we can’t juggle sexual delirium and emotional hooks in a pool of mirth and mystery anymore; we can’t falter on the last remaining few miles to a dream that we triumphantly but carelessly built before—before all the beautiful and tragic distractions of life and love came dancing and crashing before us… This is the last lap to redemption, reverence and rest.”
[ ] Monsoon’s Memoirs, short stories
THE UNFINISHED war in my grandfather’s mind, macho circumcision by a sylvan river via rusty switchblades and a chopping board that saw 1000 wars, a toxic playground of corporate cyanide (or a mountain river’s life snuffed out by mining wastes), the mythical headhunter of the Cordilleras was a lonely troubadour who wore Che Guevara’s beret, birds and London’s Buck, Huck and Tom and Twain’s Filipino greatgreatgrandson… and more.
[ ] Harriet Smith Jones’ Endless Winter,
HARRIET SMITH Jones paints the interiors of her Victorian mansion yellow and dabs dark blue hues in her insides, Luisa Dacanay saw Green Card summers in the downtrodden eyes of a homeless bard in West Central Park, Ranjo Ramone’s CBGB-inebriated punk-splattered romantic politics, Arrow Chenault’s superheroes were ambushed in an Iraqi desert, and George Washington Jr’s sammy davis swagger…
[ ] Pots, Pans, Poetry, Passion, Pasckie,
a cookbook that rocks and rolls