Category Archives: Poetry

Becoming birds we trade our arms for wings, transform our mouths to beaks and let the air replace our marrow. Fast-forsaking things like counting and manipulation, hair is complicated into feathers, hued and patterned: evolution’s male parade. The embryos are … Continue reading →

The trouble with the mainstream is its tendency to lull, conducting and inducing us to sleep. The current is hypnotic and the atmosphere is dull, the water neither turbulent nor deep, and floating in the middle of that stream, entranced … Continue reading →

I must admit I marveled toward the west and north this morning as I exercised the dog. I suddenly felt love, caressed, by breeze refreshed, by scenery surprised. The gardens rose like guards behind my back; before me rolled the … Continue reading →

“You’ll pay for this” he said to me today when I diverted to the telephone. “Beyond my phone bill?” prompted him to say “Um hmm” and then I asked in quiet tone “Is that a threat or promise?” He replied … Continue reading →

Perhaps it was the distance from home turf that softened me, perhaps the spanking blue of sky that pried me open, pounding surf, eroding wind that turned ideas askew, but I was struck by tender gesture, seen outside a small … Continue reading →

We overflowed the hall – we’re such a crowd we littered every niche and split the schools. While other cohorts gossiped we made loud eruptive innovations, suffered fools, invented newer music, ate vaccines, and danced until the sun sent us … Continue reading →

I feared I’d waste myself: I used to dream recurrently about an unused room. Reminded nightly to it, I’d redeem it from the day’s oblivion, resume a planned inhabitance, investigate its windowless perimeter, and then I’d wake to tasks already … Continue reading →

I used to have an automatic gauge. It didn’t matter where or when I went: there always was a crowd of folks my age around me. We are the experiment abused by apres bellum attitude (they fought to keep us … Continue reading →

Describe the light, insists the prod within, that makes the city famous. Paris lit electrically, like varnish on live skin, does not impress this visitor a bit. But something in the valley of the Seine makes sunlight feel two miles … Continue reading →