Words

My story

I wonder why it is by all accounts that what I’ve arranged is as yet fixedwhen night makes up for lost time...

Clichés

Time is money isn’t everything in it’s place and a place for everything counts count your blessings and don’t count your chickens...

Taking a Short-cut on a Dead-end

You know... I’ve been dying, more than I’ve been living I’ve been making more than I’ve been giving You’re telling me I’ve been forgiven, what am I...

Bukowski, again

oh holy poetic father your long skinny soul scrawled across the backs of thousands of naked spines and how each drop of battery acid dripped from the dots in the...

Landscape, Mid-Consequence

The oft-oppressive miracles of the combustion engine beckon from whiny highways of a degradation we must call fair An asymmetrical face appears in the exhaust drift between the taillight and...

Bring an Original Poem to Class

Scary things, scary things The things that have created me All come back, so haunting Surrounded now, I can not breathe. Can someone please Soon help me Rid my life...

About Bob

Smiling at the paper:  it’s telling him a secret (the secret of the margin-labyrinth) Look at the sky—it’s much closer here. Hazel starry The long eyelashes.       (more...

A Song to the Twilight

Ruby studded sky, the horizon calls to me. It knows my name by heart. I have stood here all eternity, watching a coral glow of evening, as geese fly...

Thanksgiving

Thanks for stoplights, to notice pink waves of dawn, reflected from sandstone foothills, that drift across my windshield Thanks for hold buttons, for forced moments to focus...

big night out

bits & piecesof me slough offevery day slivers of sanityflecks of hopescraps of intellecti sweep them up & save themfor a rainy day

Gleti, After Al-Gharra

I am the siren that beached mariners everywhere, the daughter of waves and of memory. - The one who coaxed Samson out of his power. The last...

Mother’s Persian Rugs

Mother wouldn’t have liked those three men— with their long grizzly beards and big Milwaukee guts, not to mention the mud they tracked all over Mother’s Persian rugs. That day it...
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