My poetry collection ‘Songs of a Clerk’, has been accepted for publication by Winter Goose Publishing.

The Boss

Sixty stories high
my power overlooks the city.
For my amusement
parades prance below.
How drab the soldiers pass.
The scarlet band
of high steps and stuttering drums
flaunts yellow banners,
but I watch, a bored giant,
finding no smalltown, homespun,
native American thrill.

Testimonial

Carbon copy clerk
of haunted hours
and surreptitious fantasies,
you of nine to five soul,
can’t be late,
millions in a Swiss vault,
waiting ‘til the F.B.I. forgets.
Sorefeet…
Backache…
Flatulence…
I have seen you countless times,
on lunchtime avenues and streets
in foreign lands and my land,
grey, bewildered, empty,
awaiting instructions.