Author Archives: Bill Fitzsimons

A very free translation from the Irish. I drive north into hill country, the hard breast of the hills; the car straining over the slopes, yielding to the inexorable authority of the gears. The way is difficult, the weather uncertain, … Continue reading →

Just another night in the sleepless city. The call came in around midnight – cheap hotel, Lower East Side, dead female. The uniforms kept the other residents at bay, as me and my partner, Detective Gennaro, looked at the body … Continue reading →

Summer-strolling in the park, my pal Keith and I; he, outwardly confident, brash; I, awkward and shy. Two fifteen-year olds, our adolescent hormones fueling us with teenage fantasies and indiscriminate lust. Mooching aimlessly, we ambled in hot sunlight along pathways, … Continue reading →

When errant breezes catch your hair, I watch it flow – a stream of golden fire – and my blood races with desire. Your skin, in early morning light, invites my touch, soft and warm – to your body’s hive … Continue reading →

I sometimes walk at sunset through the long woods up beyond my house where the mournful owl swoops among the darkening trees. I pause and listen to the rustle and scurry of unseen feet, the various mutterings of the forest. … Continue reading →

I miss the thrill of reading to a crowd, that uplift to the ego when, aloud, my verses soar, dip, take flight again – no longer trapped on paper, and it’s then my poem may live or maybe die, crash … Continue reading →

I rise, a latter-day Phoenix, trailing thunder and acetylene flame in my wake, aimed at the broad acres of Heaven. Star traveller, space nomad, technology’s bright archangel, I will fly into God’s blinding eye, the blue eye of genesis. The … Continue reading →

For days the ocean has unleashed its ire, a frenzy born of elemental spite – winds have raged that will not cease or tire till all’s consumed in endless, blackest night. The waves break fiercely on the rocks, and spray … Continue reading →