chapel

Posted on September 12, 2009 by riverwriter

Trying not to think about sex
when you are fifteen and
sitting in church

is like trying to hide
from a spot light
at centre stage.

I saw naked female body parts Continue reading →

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finding

Posted on September 11, 2009 by riverwriter

“Oh, and would you bring something to read for us?”
— The postscript that kills.

The voice on the phone had invited me
to sit in a coffee shop
early on a Sunday afternoon
and be interviewed
for television.

I should have known: Continue reading →

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midnight

Posted on September 10, 2009 by riverwriter

(all right, I realize
you can tell I am not
writing this at midnight,
and yes, the moonlight
would be cast shadows
a little shorter at twelve;
but let me tell you, Buster, Continue reading →

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