Category Archives: Poetry

The plant matures to arid as days pass, withstands the wind more weakly every week till pummeled and untethered, makes a mass that tumbles free and frolicsome: a freak and vagabond that travels whither when and how the currents of … Continue reading →

The zircons in my lunch companion’s ears are much too large for Saturday at noon. Transparent as her ego, false as tears of petulance, each signals like the moon at dawn: a circle empty as a hole against a surface … Continue reading →

At each end of the block are posted signs. The city workers wave the cars away while sewer experts drill through asphalt: lines investigating how the waters play that pop the uphill disks for overflow, precipitating toilet paper curds. Descending … Continue reading →

I get it now: I made a big mistake – assessing my relationships as deals we cut together thinking we could make a thorough interaction that reveals our selves in full. And so we struck our pact, in voices two … Continue reading →

If I a prophet were and awesome wise, if I could speak the spirit in my heart, the messages I’d utter would surprise: Prescriptions for enlightenment would start with learning how to listen to our souls, rejecting every insult to … Continue reading →

A person’s life cannot be simply viewed and won’t reduce itself to pigeonholes, but watching all her shifts in attitude invites a witness to assign her roles. So first we see her focus on her ends, evaluating selfishly in fact, … Continue reading →

I hate to be conspicuous, and yet I never move except I write the tune. I’m not in charge – a pattern isn’t set by me – I’m just as shadowless at noon as anyone somnambulating by. I’d rather you … Continue reading →

My brother’s hands are fast becoming claws. The doctor said the nodules were a sign that he’s inherited a mix of flaws that made some tendons pull. At 49 they started to compel his hands to curve. His fingers seemed … Continue reading →

Some aliens inhabited her place, their shoes on new upholstery, their mood a forced frivolity, their lack of grace astonishing, and as for attitude, they wore determined immaturity, with music overloud and humor drowned: a desperate grab at thin festivity … Continue reading →