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Of God And My Father

A Memoir

I sat on the couch less to read than to be enveloped in that atmosphere. I was too old, by then, to sit with him in his chair, feel the warmth of his breath on my head, smell the faint odor of his sweat, but being just a few feet away was almost as comforting.

Six Stories

The life insurance salesman will be here soon. He will put it to him bluntly: he has responsibilities. In his case, there are photographs of the funeral. He is a handsome corpse. He feels flattered.

Selected Poems

Selected Poems

Selected Poems

Sleep Shore

Selected Poems

Untitled

“It’s too warm,” she murmurs