Hupomeno: To Remain Under
We sat side by side, watching the sun recede Knowing, with a kind of resigned assurance, that we would never remember tomorrow what had happened…
The Burning: A Poem
Have you seen the way water In a swimming pool, a pond, Even a little birdbath like this, In its reflection under the eaves - Brushed with…
A Visit to the Planetarium: A Poem
In the daft heaven of the planetarium, stars and galaxies streaked away from us expanding in multiples of ten ad infinitum, while a…
Flowery Wasteland
Mind is blue, tattooed with floral etchings. Copper wire rib cage, coiled around bone. Dust and sunlight on the wall, seems you were never quite as tall…
When I Met the Wolf: A Poem
I skied beneath the light of the moon through forest and clearing my dog ahead startling rabbits and partridge to flight— to our mutual delight— Mars piercing…
Winter Solstice: A Poem
I am sixty-six years old, there is no cure for that. Another winter solstice observed and waved off, the days are brief, and icy. Meister Eckhart, I…
Happiness: A Poem
The movies that really hit the spot have ironic, downbeat, equivocal endings. Happiness’s grand illusion is always just out of reach: Garance dwindles into the crowd; Rick…
Dusk of Fall in Two Frames: A Poem
Under ash-colored clouds the peaks of hardwoods going bald tremble like a hopeless remnant clinging to old, exhausted scalps. Watching the vault of heav’n the crowns of…
The Monologue of Lazarus: A Poem
Do not wonder why I am pale and ashen Do ask me if I have seen a ghost. I do not want to tell you: I have…
Remembrance
Burial The still, calm silence of the morning Breaks into hammering – hard, Sharp and ringing – metal on metal: Somewhere in a neighbouring garden I guess…
Mary Magdalene: A Poem
And when the fits were on me I wanted to abandon myself, strike my foot on a new mountain, sacrifice my voice. In me, the bride led…
At Twilight: A Poem
Nobody will come, nothing will change, The day will continue to drag its hours Through dusk, evening, then the night: The cold will intensify, lodge in flesh,…
The Shovel & the Song: A Poem
Chinquapin fields yielded more than just rows Of okra, cotton, or tobacco leaves Seventy years ago. A boy with hands Borne to work like shovel and spade…
The lecture: A Poem
I’m counting down the lectures I’ll never give again. Last week it was “Christabel,” Coleridge’s weird Gothic fragment. Did he really have a thing about lesbian sex?…