He was a tall, thick guy wearing a long black top coat, fireproof orange hair, talking on his cell, loud, speeding thru the Christmas crowds on 5th Avenue and when he cut in front of me, I heard him bark into the phone, “Listen, I didn’t...I didn’t call you a whore...who would pay you?”
lives and writes in Mahopac, New York. He is the author of three books: text
messages, the first volume of American Gogyōhka poetry (Mushroom Press);
flowers to the torch, tanka prose (Keibooks, 2015); and when angels speak
of love, a novella (Loose Moose Press, 2017). His prose and poems have been
published in American Poetry Review, Atlas Poetica, Bright Stars, great weather for
MEDIA, KYSO Flash, Poetry Now, Rattle, Sandy River Review, Skylark, Still Crazy, Still
Point Arts Quarterly, Skylark, and elsewhere.
Fiore is also a jazz pianist, having played in several venues in the greater New York
City area including The Black Whale and LeRefuge in City Island and Pete’s
Saloon in Elmsford, New York.
