Separation
Steam from a bowl of oatmeal rises, Dimming the party hat mountain. The plunger falls in the dark waters, Settling on the murky grounds. Something orange, something wrinkled, Something sprinkled, something soft. I want to... More »
Steam from a bowl of oatmeal rises, Dimming the party hat mountain. The plunger falls in the dark waters, Settling on the murky grounds. Something orange, something wrinkled, Something sprinkled, something soft. I want to... More »
It needed some work. There were no soffits and pink insulation sprouted from beneath the gutters. The daily schedule on the faux stained glass window said closed on Saturdays. So there I was. I could... More »
Arc: South to North with a little french curve at the end. So high, so white. never seeming to turn In my presence, trailing a ruled soft line Spreading, erasing itself, slowly. I know it... More »
God speaks to each of us as he makes us, Then walks with us silently out of the night. These are the words we dimly hear: You, sent out beyond your recall, Go to the... More »
for sister There was a chill in the air. The blue of the sky touched the crown of my head. I leaned in, the right angle of the frame supporting me. She sat... More »
I am smoking a cigarette from a small red package I found near the greening deck. The other so like her is smoking it with me. She taught me this wonderful thing, a way... More »
I don't now where it is, I can't locate it. But Everywhere it goes it Takes me with it. It has me like the sun. In those moments everybody Seems to notice how my shirt... More »
I need a fix. I'm squatting in the sunlight eating a peach. Now I'm up on the table moving papers around. I've watched her always, today from atop a broken wall. One day she left... More »
He says I have to come in, Represent myself in a way that is real, The way measurements are. I could hear the side to side Motion of his head as I tried To describe... More »
Our body is like a boat Plowing through the gray. A missed signal of intention here, A near collision, the rough water Of crossing another's wake. Language grows around the hull Like barnacles, a steady... More »