Benway

Little paper cups sitting all about the room and not a drop to drink in thembut the retreating moon,and so, in dregs of coffeeblack and gone,I drink to you, my ...

Who are youthat Ishould call you"home,"the blank nomenclatureof where we put to bedall the thingsnot fit for the forumof impermanent minds;who, whatare youthat I should bump into youin the virtual ...

From egoistic soilgrew the worldswaddled as a boyand as a girl,the sexless sexed miasmaof a styleforetold by junk-sick dandiesand Prohibition guile.A pornographic lullaby by nightour shared, forsaken

A serious thing, but a soft thing--a maxim, a virtueof time and our thousand laughing, lazing hammer strokesupon the deepest steel,which bends to the water of lovers apart,which bends to ...

We met at night,back-alleys blackwith the scent of heady rue,my eyes attuned to ruby glintsin the timid stare of death.Behind a neon sunI found,standing in a skirt of webs,a child’s ...

Carefully, carefully down the way, walk paved with words and wants that shall stay hidden, riven between night and day from whence, to where God’s children play.