Written word


I am a meandering body of spirited water

carrying minnows of fleeting thought.

Stranger, your artificial flies have no sex appeal.  Read more



My Chauffeur

It is the end of fantasy:

the matured bones have returned home

to sit in the old wicker chair

& dwell on a mystery drive

down a country road with pebbles flying.  Read more



For All the Abandoned Virgins

They were planning to stay

at a bed and meditation cottage.

on some obscure kinky planet

for a truly disembodied honeymoon   Read more



Old Age is a Tree with Decaying bark.

Shadows are lurking in the daylight.

Tentacles of my being stir and touch

mottled spirits congealed in a wound.  Read more


The Boat

This is not just some passing splendent fishing boat

Forget the chrome , the those screaming colours

Powered by a weighty testicular engine,

this craft  bubbling with smoky testosterone, Read more

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“dark fish” is one of those rare books that not only speaks about the creative process but manages to invite the reader to enter the dark “to experience your own monolothic loneliness.” The letters not only advise Argenta to “get out on the edge of darkness” they encourage the reader to walk on the same ledge.- Eve Joseph