The Moons

There are moons, most yellow, some blue, slivered, half, and whole, all lit with another light, the sun, which is down, still shines, loaning light to night

Dream

I fell asleep and remembered my mother’s dying. She lay head high in the tilted bed a sled for the long slow slide into sleep. The sheets, white, a field of snow drifting and silencing. Deer thin as arrows hungry on the hill that was my mother’s body their...

Atomic Lovers

the soft mass of their bodies sync them together, as protons and electrons hug holding atoms in a congenial equation, the carnal equivalent of E=MC2 E = the ergs of erotic energy required to charm our bodies toward the voluptuous volatility of uncritical mass.  ...

River

the river runs through the town before the town after the town the river locates the town it is on the river a river town the town confines the river the river divides the town the council building bridges the river is on its mind an old man fishing the river is on...

The Robin

The full weight of a robin lands on a reed. The reed takes the robin’s weight seriously. The reed quivers and bends. The full weight of a poem lands in a mind. The mind does not take the poem’s weight seriously. The mind neither quivers nor...

Commitment to Silence

Dying requires an unwavering commitment to silence. I     am     not     ready yet to make that commitment.

Zeno the Stoic

When something he wanted to happen didn’t happen, he was not disappointed. When something he didn’t want to happen happened, he was not angered. When something he wanted to happen happened. he was not gleeful. Zeno the Stoic taught us to lead well-tempered lives. Zeno...

The Necessity of Absence

Death reminds us, absence surrounds.                                                                  For years my parents were present. Now they’re gone, their presence a memory, a different kind of real. Everywhere there is nothing, vacancy abounds, between letters...

Personal God

Prayer, whistling for god, a summoning, a song, the Big Cozy comes panting, eager tongue dripping elixirs of belief relief, needs me, needs us all in order to be, well, God, keeps busy day after apocryphal day, no divine fun without the anthropocentric mess to fix and...

Poems Are . . .

not messages. not in a bottle not in voicemail transformative not informative only dismantling semantic certitude with lexical hurricanes linguistic earthquakes verbal volcanoes dialogic tectonic plates or even your hand held to the sun casting a useful shadow of...