Henri Rousseau: The Dream  MY OLD STRAW HAT (a fiction) a simmering island mass an entity where moral codes of both the uncaged, untamed vertebrates and spineless wild things long since have fallen foul of tepid fate’s unearthly indifference   cloaked saturated evergreen perspiring rooted miscreation’s of a godforsaken helter-skelter intemperate jungle uglifying the less … More MY OLD STRAW HAT


  She is blithe in Fantasia now, not a care in the world. Be it of legend or of history, the word of the vanquished yields legitimate evidence, a reflection of what once was. She turned the door handle yet found it locked. Thankfully, I knew where the key was kept.  Not that that was … More CAPTIVE ASHES


There is a magnetic corner of the globe, somewhere south of here and north of there, that is visible only from within.  There are those who are unconsciously attracted to this land, others may guilelessly chance upon it.  Some however, are abductees from abroad held captive as mere chattels, skivvy’s and such like, marooned in … More 107345


Swapped her cheap crucifix for a soupçon of stardust Now both saint and sinner don’t know who to trust Yet under a raw red light a price is agreed By he who is wanting and she who’s in need Her address you can find by charting the stars Reading ragged postcards, asking in bars Perpetual … More SOFT PAWN