Daily Archives: March 1, 2015

… draw you in, then leave you hanging. set a stage, cast a phrase then hold my tired tongue. give me a quill, love. i’ll fill a fraction of the page, thrill you with a thousand brilliant ………novels of just … Continue reading →

…. I wrote 13 poems today. So what? Who reads them? (Sew what?) (Who reeds them?) ……………………(Sew what? Who reaps them?) So what, who needs them?  

…. fin ally: poeming fine alley, poem ing final lee: poeming finally poe-eming fine gnaw lea, po’ emming ……….fine all, lie poeming …….…final lie: poeming.     ..    

   …. i cannot be a teacher or a preacher or a reacher-for-stars. i simply do not own the war ……………..-drobe.     …

…   this poem is sleeping; if you wake her, she will whine her syllables un -soft into your unwilling ear. give her a wide berth, a cold earth, a warm black blanket of stars, some space to dream of … Continue reading →

…. this poem is an in -visibility cloak, and i am hiding under its un -broken skin.     …

, sew the seed, flow the need toward some brighter sky. when we have grown tired of holding breath for hope and waiting for green shoot to greet the sky, perhaps we’ll simply abandon this dirt and (flow) (er) (flee) … Continue reading →

… round the corner, love, there’s got to be something worth sinking your teeth into, some sky worth the swallow. now we are a rack with no hats, but home is here somewhere in all this vast and distant gaze. … Continue reading →

… we are broken by the visage       …..(vice age) of our own ana -biosis, altruism spent on defunct and curdled things. the first draft is a slight twinge, a partition, a meteor burned, a big bowl of nothing. scratch that: … Continue reading →

… grieve with me, yes? guess the colors of my other skin, the sigh -lence of my syllables unsaid. dread the dawn; it shall come anyway, sway the day forward in breezes gray.     ..