Best Grimy Poems

October: I'm eighteen, shortcutting home
through an autumn-burnished churchyard -
copper-lustred leaves, moss-skinned stone -
a jaunty swing of skater skirt and arm,
college folder square-sturdy in my hand.
In...

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Lemme tell ya' about a
*ding-bat skit-zo 
bee-hotch* tranny
named Annie...

I met her one night 
under disco lights 
up at Candies

She was 
starin' at me
grittin' her teeth
aimin'...

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So far I've done everything I could possibly do this year.
I've given thorough thought to cleaning up my act.
These early-day hours have been rough-house
The storm...

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And the music began,
And with power so strong, I nearly fell back from the force
Snarling, smiling, demons held me upright,
As the Precarious Prince began,

“Dare you...

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Note:***This poem is meant to be read from the bottom to the top, left to right 
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Never Again
and you remain—

For the World has gone from...

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A porch is buried
in wet leaves and broken twigs...
Quail scratch at the dirt
looking for a sign of life
in front of the empty house

A squirrel climbs...

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The intricate and winding complexity of this aged device groans as its worn exterior strains.

Though delicate, it punctures through the malice of fools' logic, gripping...

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King Vlad Redux – Second Cold War

Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin’s grimy fingerprints on current history
are for him nothing to gloat about—au contraire I say emphatically:
His actions...

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Gazing down along the zealously
Monitored borders of well clipped
Evergreen Privet hedges.
Standing watchful guard over 
Divisions
Re-enforced by concrete posts and
Darkly stained, wooden, wavy-lap 
Fences;
Age-old neighbourly disputes,...

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the grace of Paris
lingering in my thoughts. . . 
Madrid’s grimy walls

As our small group of students entered Madrid, it was an early morning in...

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Sweep then across the flowing sea of time
to stand unseen amid a stinking horde
and there behold the rich who turn away 
or groveling poor that...

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There is an antique writing desk
in my little study
handed-me-down
from generations of would-be
writers in my family

And there are ancient creatures
from days gone by
living in this old...

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Hello there, what is your name?					
Do you like to play games?
What do you do for fun?
Play checkers, maybe run, Or dance, or just play?
I can’t...

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i found her poems
in the back of my notebook
like the back of my mind
where she has been lurking
a desire denied
     ...

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many fearless nights, I prowled
on rooms of grimy paper dimmed then
lit by this lone wayfarer searching
a gush of passion to feed the words 
with some...

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