Frank’s Steak House

i am sixty-five; townies do not give a damn with each beefy chew

Street Treats

dessert first, she said, pressing two snickerdoodles deeper into cream

Tavern Law

lithe dancer, you are green, wanton, casting light against the darkest world

Voula’s Offshore Cafe

the lingered beauty as you burst like a dying star, a crying child

Monsoon

meow, pussy cat-fish, you play not with balls of yarn — your fate is greater