The coin fed gypsy, returned to the arcade this year freshly repaired and painted. Teeth yellow and faintly brown like Daffodil heads bowing to die, like her crookedly redeemed poesy red cheeks just installed.… Read More Good Fortune
A blue velvet bag opened by this single Movement – her hand reached Into the spaciousness above And all stars’ light unpacked, and Secreted away in drawer full of daydreams. Now the seashore glistens With the promise of night, and Eternally luminous With all the befores, And all the ever afters, Moving our millions of tears Into a single smiling river. “Goodnight my beautiful bodies,” And we fly away home, laughing.… Read More Fly Away Home, Blessed Body
Riding passenger side snapping right, I’m down in front stealing long exposures. From the back seat our youth sits Mocking us with instant polaroids. Destroyed pictures of minutes and memory Precious and precarious slip a stone At once here and at once gone. Right under the driver breaks hard and higher Up another mile, silently… Read More Eventide
Slowly dripping outside busy windows
Only two minutes, like eggs timed, yet
She’s done cooking. With eyelashes, false
Newly bred widows sit with spidery eyes,
Single fingers silently making reservations for twos.
They reapply the glue, so unkind, that humidity.… Read More Florida, State Your Name
Until the day comes when my breath no longer returns from the night, Now visible from my lungs, freed into the winter air… Read More Shadow Dancing
I find all the sunshine ever shined,
Filtered through my forests, my pin pupil eyes.
And I, without permission,
Acting out against all advice –
Finally stare into the sun.… Read More Present Perfect
In the country of Illness
I live in a town called sick
Squabbling and wordless
Rounded outwardly and thick.… Read More The Country of Illness
Not the first, nor ever last, The Second Line dances ecstatically past. Behind the mourners, they’re not the saints, All uplifted, marching in crowded street’s restraints. Wheeling, turning, lift and fall with porch swings, All souls rise upon the polls and upon night’s owl’s wings. Arriving I walked through stranded streets, Leaving, I grasp a heart… Read More The Second Line
Stronger than knives or strokes and Beleaguered, lonesome old oaks, Together again, those wings, the trees, Gasping at them as I forgot to sing. Spanning years’ dimly stated demands Its our last night in the Neverland.… Read More Saving Rescuers
A well-positioned boy who smokes out a window,
Discarding his amusement for a hummingbird.
His green sharkskin suit, brightly alert –
Dusted by sunshine, weakened with night.
Heartbeats, just over a wing he spots you.
In the span of a wink,
He’s gone from the ledge.… Read More Filming Pilgrims