Category Archives: Poetry

… In a Comic Book 20 Years Old I read a Richie Rich the other night: A story run in 1973 that had an uncle travel to the bright occasion of the coming century which seemed approaching slowly surely then … Continue reading →

Surveying me as I depart from home, I stipulate to happiness today. So light and clear it’s hard to make a poem and if I die this afternoon, I say it needn’t be more wonderful than this: dependents well, acknowledgment … Continue reading →

I speak for every female ever fat in mind or mood or belly, butt or thighs. Presumptuous pronouncements are my chat and this apparent fitness my disguise. For I am fat in memory and fears beneath the slender shape I … Continue reading →

I cooked and ladled chowder for us three. I served it to each person with a roll. When Danny saw the steam, he questioned me: Why does it tumble upward from the bowl? He let me look through eyes not … Continue reading →

Dick and Jane take Betty for their friend: introduce themselves and spend a year acquainting each with other, and intend to get the truth of her and be her peer. Betty is a person self-contained and balanced in her own … Continue reading →

I am attracted to the dancing rhythm of alternating 7-beat lines with 5s. Sometimes I indulge that attraction. I started this one when I was 43, recollecting 20 years ago then. I remember Feather River camping in July. Creek and … Continue reading →

I made a little cottage out of straw and then I raised an edifice of sticks. They each accommodated natural law, and nothing stood until I built of bricks. For straw is fodder for the beastly cud, and sticks are … Continue reading →

I’m sitting in a valley in the sun, indulging heels that brought me to this place where folks are few and media are none, and all around the planet shows its face to me, with patterned walls of rock and … Continue reading →