Monthly Archives: November 2017

Black & White

Got a photograph of a smile taken way back when we could smile. Now this plane will take me where, I don’t know… – Collective Soul   .. There’s a sepia tone smile somewhere in this drawer that says we … Continue reading

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The Old Gray Mare

.. This poem was a goddess once. A Godiva, even. Long hair, horse. Now she’s a little ………worse for wear. Stare at her long enough, you might see the re -semblance of her old song, the hum -ina humina humina … Continue reading

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This Is Still to Say

{in response to William Carlos Williams} .. I am sick of plums and that damn empty icebox which never has anything worth saving for breakfast Forgive me I am also not much worth saving   .. Poetic Asides November Chapbook … Continue reading

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This Ain’t Love

.. This poem is a fickle mistress, a wandering soul. She might stay awhile, and smile. She might go home to the moon at any moment. She’ll leave a note, but only the most tre -bled clefs, no rest, no … Continue reading

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The Stories We Tell Ourselves, In Order {To Stay}

Love bites, love bleeds. – Def Leppard . We say we might flee. That these bleak skies are too much. That we might touch peace again if only we leave. We say we might be better apart. That the stilted … Continue reading

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On Top of Spaghetti

I lost my poor meatball, When somebody sneezed. ………….. – old Scout song   .. We have lost our ever -lovin’ ……(meatballs) ……………(meanings) minds. You will find us here, ………..tryin’ to use our noodles, find some new way ……to say ………….God … Continue reading

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North of This  

This poem has slid just a little too far south. She’s got a mouth on her, but not enough to say. Point her true ……………..{north} , and she’ll tell you a thing or two about the weight of water, the … Continue reading

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