james Gandolfini – r.i.p.

tony soprano photo: Tony Soprano tony.jpg

Tony Soprano: Juicy Quotes

“Is everyone in my life fuckin’ bananas?”

“When you’re married, you’ll understand the importance of fresh produce! ”

tony soprano photo: created by Tony soprano.gif


alicia young


i have no time for what never was”

as writers

it is our job
to document the times
in which we live

i have no time
for what never was

there is no poetry in what might have been

bones grow from the center outward
and mine have existed long enough
to ache with all they know
to include
what should be
long forgotten

we live out the choices we make

so few of us retain the right
to label ourselves victim
yet it seems everyone is wearing that t-shirt

these baby boomers
are cashing in their pensions
timothy leary bleary eyed
having deliberately
learned nothing

© aayoung 2013

“truth telling” by dayna leslie hodges



She begins to speak and
her tremulous voice cracks
her words shaky, yet sincere
and full of truth.

Her voice submerged beneath audible
for far too many sorrows.

Her feelings found their way to words
now tumbling into the air
as they quiver past her lips
sharing her history
expressed by heart.

Her story unfurling
in disjointed fragments of
paragraphs and chapters;
her sentences in turn
poetic and pedantic
revealing the dramatic dance
in which she never quite found
her place in the rhythm
because the tune was not her own.

© Dayna Leslie Hodges 2012

Joe Kennedy

The theme from an old western wafted through the big room like the faint smell of pancakes after a long winter of old potatoes and rusted hinges creaking in a frigid gloom of dusk
the sound welcome after the relentless drone of the machine the one keeping the swollen interior at constant sensation not too much not too little the tonal rudder of the thing unchanging an autistic pianist obsessed by the striking of the one key without pause
bifurcating my viscera gelding my ungendered gonads pissing on the sheen of my serenity
I wanted to find the source of that singular discord and defenestrate it the sonic frowst
of the mezzo-soprano whatever eating at the edges of my virtue the one I never had in the first place.
I wanted to throw an old jockstrap at it, order it some bad clams and make it suck em’ down.
I wanted to buy it a lifetime subscription to Readers Digest.
Oh, oh wait! That’s my punishment, that’s my beat-down, my Chinese water torture, it doesn’t have a brain, no awareness, no self-consciousness, no brain cells to rub together, it’s just a motor, a noise box, moving parts repeating its task, a sonic meditation I found irksome, yeah
that was it, I was irked, it should be the other way round, silent, quiet, still, but it isn’t. Shit.
Inside myself I tried bonding with it, breathing, accepting, caressing, crocheting.
My feet hurt. Suddenly I got that fat feeling like I just downed a gallon of ice cream and couldn’t move. A harbinger of doubt tickled my innards, and suddenly I was in the cut, surfing, robot seagulls moaning dizzily above, the twilight singing, sea creatures without eyes calling my name, I knew I was dead, and yet quite alive, kissing a sonic boom box of pure love, a popsicle of purity, an envelope mailed by a mime holding a seamless message inside.
– Joe Kennedy
(Joe writes & reads his witty poetry in Los Angeles)
© 2013

Rebecca Clites


“I Save Twenty Bucks a Month Not Buying Tampons”


My hot flashes are getting hotter.  My desire is getting colder.  And my patience and my hair are growing thin.  I can barely remember ten minutes ago let alone yesterday.  Sending an email that makes sense requires no less than five reviews.  I could doze off in front of a friend telling the most riveting story.  Or I could stay up all night watching Barbra Streisand TV specials.  My attention span is less than that of a two year old.  I must be entertained at “Hello” or I’m bored.  I take no pills.  I create my own prisoners.  My filter is worn through.  There is very little between my thoughts and my voice.  There is less between my insanity and my reality.  And there is nothing between my legs.  Menopause has set me free.  I am a liberated b-otch who has nothing to prove to anyone but herself.  That, my friends, is more significant than saving twenty bucks a month not buying tampons.

– Rebecca Clites

Rich Ferguson


“Last night the moon was a sun-bleached cowskull.

Clouds moved across the night like sandstorm.

Stars howled.

The hours slithered by,

dug their poisonous fangs into me.

My body slipped off into fevered dreams,

then mirage.

Sometimes sleep is an unforgiving desert.”

– Rich Ferguson

(Los Angeles, Poet)

© 2013

“Like Girls Do” by Susan Staraci

Image 9

“I hear the moan that gets lodged in your throat,” she says.  That

‘uh, uh, uh, uh,’ I do.

Just like boys do. “My Butterfly Penis!” I say. She likes


to look at my face right before I make her

cum.  “To watch your conceited gaze, “ she says.  The

point at which she knows I

have her.  “What else do you see? “ she says.  “I hear a little

girl. With a dainty voice.  Making


soft sounds,” I say. It’s more of a look on your face.  Your angles

get softer.  Like the muscles in your jaw relax. 

But if you could fit inside my skin with me and fit inside my

love for you.  You would see, you would feel all that I know. 


And you would lie there naked-unafraid.  Totally

exposed.  Like a little show-off.

Susan Staraci

– Photo by Alexis Rhone Fancher

© 2013

“Tarnished” by Shirley Ballard R.I.P. (87 years)

long nails and silver rings

hands that speak a gesture

for words…

silver chains around my neck

with bracelets on my arm

a silver watch that keeps

no time

Shirley Ballard (86 yrs.)

(Miss Calif. 1944)


L. K. Thayer’s Foto Fetish

Thank you for all of your love

and laughter Shirley…I am happy

you are free to party now!

I love you…

your BFF Lisa 🙂

© 2o11