News (August 2020): 

A couple of days ago I had a poem accepted that was written 25 years ago. Never give up! I also found out I had two poems published three months ago (in May) from La Piccioletta Barca (link below). 

After being told my chapbook "Solar Subjugation" was a finalist in the Alexandria Review chapbook contest, it was accepted for publication by Finishing Line Press., The chapbook is now available for order. 
 You can order from the press or Amazon (it's also on Barnes and Noble)​​​​​​​

Below is a mockup of the cover using a photograph of mine.  And here's a sample poem.
Orange Grove in Fog

                         Cocooned in fog, an orderly army
                         of gray-legged trees wait in patient formation,
                         perturbed with a million embryonic suns,
                         capped by bouffant viridescence,
                         constructing a canopy over a self-sufficient galaxy,
                         stretching their branches like eager fingers
                         across the crooked swath of a divisive path
                        reaching lustily for each other’s woody touch—
                        symmetry plotting to go seasonally mad.
"If Only the Swan" republished in Abstract: Contemporary Expressions
previously published in Pierian Springs

Dusk comes early to
a lake encircled
by five mountains.
A solitary swan stands
at the end of the pier
that seems to lead nowhere
as the fog rolls in
and cuts off its logical end.
On the boardwalk
fearless passeggiatori
reweave, with each step,
the ties that bind them
while a foreigner,
as loosely applied to life
as pigment to wet plaster,
huddles on a bench
at the edge of the liquid universe,
panic rising in his gullet
as the fog blends with the water
to become one sepulchral wall
the weight of stone
earth and water
against his chest
and he cannot rise.
If only the swan
would come back to shore.
"The Moment Before" published in The Ibis Head Review 

The Moment Before

Two people standing face to face
in a bedroom 
the expectation of a kiss between two
old faces— new again
after so much time apart.
The excuse had been to fix a broken
light fixture and as she watched
him climb the ladder
she imagined how many things he could fix
around the house.
The drapes were open
the neighbors could have seen
the two bodies
standing face to face, standing still,
next to the bed that waited for them,
the August heat making them sway in place.
A wasp flew by and batted against the window
wanting in for some reason—
to be a witness, perhaps;
a cat climbed the fence separating
the apartment from the house next door,
its back arching as another cat tried
to pass going the other way.
A helicopter twirled over the roof
checking the traffic on the nearby freeway,
or searching for a criminal down below.
The garlic from the neighbor’s kitchen next door
wafted through the window screens
and still they stood, transfixed as if
they had been transported to the Twilight Zone
and time no longer worked the way it should.
Everything that led up to this moment
was worth it if it led up to this—
he had quit smoking
he was divorced
he didn’t duck when somebody walked
                               past them
they had dinner at his place
they had lunch at hers.
After eleven years he had come back
to rekindle what had never burned out
after years of surreptitious couplings
so wrong on so many levels
And then—
the sentence that subtracted everything
like a wave
that carries to shore a treasure chest
and then wrenches it out of
the shipwrecked person’s hands,
carrying it back out to sea.
And all that was left was this moment—
the last moment a man would hold her
the last moment a man would kiss her
the last time she would say I love you
a moment just like the moment before
with the open drapes and the wasp
and the cats and the helicopter
and nothing had changed except

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