Tag Archives: April PAD 2017

21 Grams

… We meter it out in heartbeats, giggles, song, tick-tock of clock and shades of calendar squares. Tears. We stare at walls, wonder what is level (tiny bubble of water, centered.) Point true north and go every which way. Loose. … Continue reading

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Scented Ink

… I write in rain and coffee stained half-moon paper smiles. The cloy and cling of past -life sting smoke. The perfumed poke of pine. The desert after a storm. The smell of snow and silence. Indigo flow and old … Continue reading

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feasting on the moon, and poems

{a ramble in sestina form} ..   the moon’s a golden pest, a horizon harlot crack -ing open the sky in a ramble of tide, a hiccup of light. watch her wince -squint her way to dawn’s festoon of crimson … Continue reading

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pocket poems

… go ahead, be a pest. crack open your pocket, your heart, your chest. ramble on in perfect rhyme, or hiccup in perfect iambic time. they might wince or squint as you show ’em, but let’s festoon the world with … Continue reading

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sunset unsavored

.. when we hurry through ……to yawn ……to dawn ..we miss ..the last kiss of tangerine-cherry slush sky.     ..  

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Paper Tigers

… This poem has no re -morse code, no regrets. It does not wish it wasn’t, or want to be something else, even as it trips over its own un -iambic feet. It’s complete in its im -perfections, its imp … Continue reading

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Regrets, Get Your Regrets!

.. Regrets, get your regrets! Your troubles and your frets! Bad relationships? We’ve got ’em, and just when you think you’ve hit rock bottom, we can add that fifth divorce to the pile. Job you hate? There’s no debate! And … Continue reading

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