Jay Passer, resident and native of San Francisco, has had work in print and online, appear all over the globe since 1988. He is the author of ten chapbooks, a few still available on Amazon.
"End of It," "Climate Change or Not," and "Back to Black and White"
you might be a break in the monotony
a saxophonist encouraging call and response
then you quit smoking for good
while I notice
in the middle of the night
a pair of scissors at my throat
read this article
"With Eyes as Blue as Ice Picks She's" and "New Directons"
ready to entertain kidneys and liver,
our girl. some days
she goes by Sunny.
"There's Nothing Like a Near-Death Experience to Really Wake You Up in the Morning," "The Painter's Lament," and "Blind to the Fact"
yellow came and told me
paint a dog, find a corner
bodega, steal me some
of them Swisher Sweets, while
red gave me the finger, called
911, kicked me in the shins
Take It Back
black reptilian oaths
vowed in penthouse palaces
back up their
"Larkin Street, Little Saigon" and "While Watching You Sleep"
prone on the mattress, breathing in the strangeness
the ceiling like a penalty in the game of visualization