poems Archives - Into the Muse

Croupier

Croupier smoking a cigarette, hesitates picking up the red phone; His father has a job for him, he doesn’t want…

Sometimes I think about being for someone else what I needed the most and lost to time and death. Mentors…

It was a cool Halloween morning when I got my AD 74’s in a town founded by an Irishman, a…

I slam the pen down on my desk, not hard, but the exasperation is noticeable. I step out now into…

So, we were standing there in the scorching northern heat. We had to wait until one o’clock for the parcel…

I can only write what comes from the soul, my greatest drivers — sorrow, solace, and despair. I can only…

Walking down from the nice hotel and casino down in the burning south. A checkered corridor leads me to a…