Rp Verlaine lives in New York City.
He has an MFA in creative writing from City College.
He taught in New York Public schools for many years.
His first volume of poetry- Damaged by Dames
& Drinking was published in 2017 and another – Femme Fatales Movie Starlets & Rockers in 2018. A set of three e-books titled Lies From The Autobiography vol 1-3 were published from 2018 to 2020.  His newest book, Imagined

Another Morning Unlike Others

There are unkind
mornings you awaken
with head too heavy
for your hands.
And prospects grim
as a dead end street
advertising for
casuals.


When life refuses to fit
conform or lay
in a repose
you can trust
violence will not
assault and perhaps
even beckon forward
to altruism.

Another morning
unlike the
others.

When she calls to say
she must see you
to tell of a new  
romance that seemed
to work until pristine train track  
by track it went off the
rails. He was with another
woman who worse, looked  
like her, and now she wants to
to drink but not alone and
who better than you.


Kindness becomes  
listening without 
judgment's sharp tongue
swirling Into deep holes
with serpent nectar
bitter and vile.
So we meet,drink ,
and talk  till spent 
as prayers
by a roulette wheel.
Until the room 
spins enough for
us to leave.


We hold the good bye kiss
long enough to make it  
more knowing
nothing will
ever come of it.
Another bit of kindness
Our cabs leaving in
different directions
and the moon bright
enough to lead us home
to dream perhaps or just collapse.

Avenue A

Valuable still
the near
fallen star
found upright in 
A dark stair well
inquiring into
a lost wannabes
shared sweet
poisons
by pin pointed
dispensed pricks
to flesh. She's
young/hardened yet
nowhere near 2
or 3 collapsed veins
like him at 30.
No selfies 
he tells 
she of no
last known address.
At a quarter
to three
where
both inject
realism away.
Him paying for hers
while the limo
driver checks
the box scores in
a distorted pause
until the
star walks
out and she
shakily says
goodbye
counting cash..
He heads to the show
walking on clouds
feeling perfect almost.

Lisa

Somehow
always there
but never
quite


Ephemeral
as if
unreachablie
in the moment
present
and long
passed.


Bubbly as  
champagne
till she turned
down the
wattage
of the
Illusion.


The sadness
hidden
so well  
hidden
It was obvious..


Dead of aids
from dirty needles
at 28.