Tales from the Kicked

Exterior, an old and rickety mansion. Cobwebs cling to crevices that cover creaking corners. Of course, the night is dark and stormy. Lightning cracks through the air, breaking through the darkness to reveal glimpses of prying eyes from fauna and who knows what else.  On the front stoop, a slight

Quoth the Ginger

With apologies to Edgar Allan Poe, JJFozz, and actual writers/poets/intellectuals everywhere   Once upon a season dreary, while owners pondered, meek and bleary- Eyed, thumbing through the ratings from the week before—     The Shield's keepers, focused on accounting, were ignoring a sudden tapping, As if some one gently rapping, rapping on the windows of

Rogermandias

I met a traveller from a land of over-priced antiques, possibly Cotuit Who said: "Two vast and trunkless arms of stone developed by years of one-armed push-ups Lie in the asphaltt . . . Near them, on the median, Half covered with graffiti, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold