DEAD SNAKES

MARCH FIRST BLUES A blue bird carols in the revelation of spring that may be dawning soon my hand seeks bread from the feede...

Wayne F. Burke has published two volumes of poetry with Bareback Press: WORDS THAT BURN (2013) and DICKHEAD (2015), and has a third vol...

Dead Dad Club Dear friend I'm not a member but I feel your pain the bludgeoning blows to the already shattered ego the accusations the...

                                                    "Idaho"

WAGON TRAIN She was not daddy's little girl, Cinderella, or Rapunzel. The only knee she knew was the one she skinned. Should of ...

                                           "Atlantic Sunrise"

A Concert We once went To see Bob Dylan, A poet on a bus With a band. On a cool day Just before autumn, When a cool, gentle, Comf...

MAKING A MAN   When I am alone I build myself a man Not of biblical clay But one fluent in the language of French ...

A JOURNEY OF HABIT she lives at the end of the number 9 bus line where the tracks curve round the bay through the jail yard past th...

                                                  "Hudson"