Three Poems

I don't write a lot of poetry anymore.  I used to once upon a time, but my poetic muse has largely left me in the last several years.  Every so often words or phrases invade my head, or something happens and bits and pieces work into something resembling a poem.  These three, more or less, …

Luanne Forever

Gene watched the tattoo artist, one Sid Sinowski of No Mercy Tattoos & Body Piercings, mix Luanne’s ashes into the ink. The tattooist grunted from time to time as he worked, scratched at his thick neck which was covered in art like the rest of his exposed skin (save for his scruffy face). Even the …

Still Waters

The night his father died, Jeff Olliet's lungs were full of the same crepe myrtle and Spanish moss that teased his nose now in the full swelter of day.  He leaned on the tree, listening to the congregation in the church singing about the sweet by and by as the river accompanied their chorus. He …