Life of a voyeur: looking for villains amidst troves of the violent. Radio waves outreach retinas. Looking for that dark skinned male with dark jeans; in dark dreams – of danger. Their tools of torment incite terror; the protectors or peons, present the provocation they prevent.


We all fall in love – not gracefully ascend. Because it was – mistake.


We move but the sky does not; well, at its own speed. As is growth: maturity. Should we continue to look to the sky in hopes of movement? Or will it never?


Women like shops: plentiful and open daily; for all types of customers – tourists favored for foreign currency.


Dedicated to Antonio “Tat” Gonzalez (1929-2009): beloved grandfather, father of seven, and fisherman. The sea, contains endless depth – like you: stubborn, refusing rest. But today, the sun-seared waves that forever called, are still and silent; for the sea, like us – dear grandfather – hath lost its captain… Author’s Note: I believe it is […]


My life – over-thought; thoughts of thinking about over-thinking, and all the processes in between – My life.


I once played a game – involving a poem whose lines, words, and syllables, described a poem about a game – I once played.


For there is booty everywhere – treasure – that another man has claimed; proof in parenthood.