Poem: The Kingly Elephant Made of Sand by Mark Tulin
My creation sits near the pier, just below the briny boardwalk of Stearns Wharf, with no fingers or toes onlyContinue Reading
My creation sits near the pier, just below the briny boardwalk of Stearns Wharf, with no fingers or toes onlyContinue Reading
Sometimes I sit at the community piano downtown that’s set up in the middle of a busy sidewalk, andContinue Reading
Front and back covers to my poetry chapbook.
I teeter in one foggy moment. The waves come on either side. I tell myself to widen my stance,Continue Reading
He was senile as my Aunt called it, didn’t know my name or who was president. Yet, he battledContinue Reading
I see brick row houses lined up evenly on a street, squished together, one street after another. A seaContinue Reading






