Heading Up
Do we all get where we’re headed? I’d like to believe I do. I’ve held a cold hand or two, […]
Poetry Month 2019
In Store
On course for spring, we run into frigidity, a storefront of lingering winter. See how we crash through the front
Monday Unhanded
This Monday morning, pear blossoms tumbling with the wind, white cloud grounded, blue sky clapping with one hand. Well done.
Passage
Never turn back, they say. But my back takes the stone barrage, bleeding faster than gossip, bruising like a damaged
Cubano
To write poetry, you must untrain your brain, forget the rigidities of relationships. Where is the mug of Cuban coffee
Monitor
All screens switch. Not momentarily – any milli-moment. Count them in fractions. One-one hundredth. Two. Dissolved into some vague animation
Sail
When in the throws of spring I remove my top in public, will you sail quickly, back towards conventional wind?
Now Untitled
For everyone missing their mother, I offer you a memory of mine: She hugged strangers, invited the lonely to dinner
NOVA Spring
Tonight, peepers pepper the air, thick with the sauce of spring, a dinner of biscuits and decaf coffee, reverse breakfast,
Bring Your Kids to Work Day
What if on Bring Your Kids to Work Day I brought my books? What if I sat them next to
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