Three and Counting

In cloudy skies we can point to everything,
To find similarity and we described it
In high school English to empty the milk cartons of meaning.
Gentlemen reflect in receding ice cubes and
Swinging across Elm into urbanite cock fights.
Floating, melting into her whiskey colored eyes
The missus distributes disambiguated dinners
With a side of dry rye wit… Read More Three and Counting

Fly Away Home, Blessed Body

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

Humid

Unlatch me, catch and return me scales, underbitten and in the flesh A real guest of honor. Crumpled shirts creased, A Western hanging for Black hats. Barn door closets Open and craving smart suits. Drawers devoid of life, Almost empty except Gideon’s guide book — The Special Edition With tourist maps all Pointing north at… Read More Humid

Eventide

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

Present Perfect

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

The Country of Illness

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

Playing the Cat

Nestled pyramids, soldiers of sand,
No servants hand, no strangers.
No one died today, no saints
Made. Cat wore the Ankh,
Carried the dog headed staff,
Drawing along the sea crooked to
And fro on the sand, wand dragging… Read More Playing the Cat

The Second Line

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

Maps and Legends

We all fall down.
The ground grows smaller,
As I pass the Earth,
Becoming her daughter.
Funny to stand today, 
Eclipsing the sun.
My books marked still,
On page one.… Read More Maps and Legends

Angelic Details

Lampfish unevolved, light the crevice, (otherworldly!) Blindly finding their ceviche (weirdly!) A dinner time resevation for one, Below the heaving inky pressures Seas lifting other treasures. Above on uboats rocking, spit roasted on a gun, On rising waves. Cresting, comes the new, Seemingly unborn facing headlong, due east. Darwinian measures for Blackbeards pleasures, Never found… Read More Angelic Details