Intent on Song Toltec sand and the rustle of leaves by the cenotes, Deep tunneling clear water through the lava tubes, The limestones of skeletal microbes compressed, Dripping algae in the cave, such is the dream of insides, The cool … Continue reading →
No one is ready to leave, Ice cream in the lobby, milling around, thinking about things. Broad shoulders, a donkey, a boat in the canal with lines Spreading as she moves the water outward from the bow, As the craft … Continue reading →
As to nothing with her trailing veils, the nothing of the memoir, The smoke unfinished as the meal charred in a charnel hole, A buried bar b cue of pink ham and gristle, falling off the bone As the … Continue reading →
Protasis In the wind, the harvest thinned, On the ground what locusts left and Birds we hailed to carry our messages skyward. At home now, Buried with the quiet where poets sleep off their dreams, The idle musings occupying other … Continue reading →
How How turn the world from its sad seasons to a hopeful message worthy of hope. The human family as evidenced by our persistence here, does carry on. We live on the myths of fragments others have left, be it … Continue reading →
Inside No longer tied toe to toe, elbow to elbow, Back bone to the flat plank, The curve of spine in murk, No longer matters. The shoots of new growth Up through meaty ribs and blackened soil, The night cedes … Continue reading →
You ease and tease us through the years With a Moses beard and a Sistine Chapel scene of God. All say we know better and keel over dead. Flat as a board with little knots and boles in concentric circles, … Continue reading →
Appellation Not too shy, not too delicate, No one really cares about the toad stool found growing in my belly button. Fed on lint and head cheese, the greased looking but dry pretender has deep roots. You know the woods, … Continue reading →
Sequel To be left alone, envisioning the private kingdom inherited from the mind As the laughing ice groans a thousand feet down in the blue glacier Of its icy irreversible movement. The great crevices, sulci of structure … Continue reading →
Blasphemy Silence is no golden rule, Timid self-made maker of the thundering hooves clicking sparks Like a pressed army on the cobble stones. Old Europa with her dead young and provenance of good patina, Now frail, baroque, its fragility in … Continue reading →