Rita Parking meters, still the soldiers of urban islands, guarding identical squares of oil spotted cement for timeshare. I hate them...

Thing To her, the neighbor’s flowering bougainvillea is a reminder of the fondling she suffered at the hands of a different neighbor...

You say the cars seem to float among invisible gray whales, a sheet of slippery sea beneath our peddling feet The body of the city is...

Gone in Silence Insult me. Drink me. Burn me. Make me your little joke, and insult me. Insult me to the content of your mind. Rock...