by Warren Gaston | Jul 24, 2022
All day far into night, our human work, recognizing resonances noticing relationships, hints, links, overtones, this related to that: milk weed seed, a brown milk cow, the Milky Way.
by Warren Gaston | Jul 20, 2022
Nearby, a cemetery of solid selves, hard pressed and handy, interminable practicality, skills and disciplines I had neither attitude or aptitude to be. So I buried them. Instead, a stream, shores, banks, rocks, rapids, rebounding eddies, pooling fractured light,...
by Warren Gaston | Jul 18, 2022
It is raining. Maybe not. This is a poem, after all, not a weather report. Some kind of report, though, water dropping through sky. Perhaps danger, a slick highway, or beauty, a rainbow, or playfulness, a child splashing mud, a mother questioning a dichotomy, and...
by Warren Gaston | Jul 17, 2022
All of my life I have lived with the word ‘next’ firmly before me. An open door, a time and place to go and do whatever comes – next. And now I wonder, as I could have wondered all along, is this the last time or the next time. I will dare eat Prufrock’s peach,...
by Warren Gaston | Jul 1, 2022
Canto I Let’s say you woke up one morning to a world completely to your liking. You liked the news, yesterday’s, the week before, the year, centuries, and quite likely you will like tomorrow, aka the future, and the future’s future after that. To your horror you...
