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poetry

tall canyons

I took a walk through the bodies today each and all bathed in the gray of days some still moaning a few breathing a last heavy sigh and there beckoned above the iniquitous din a sparse-green hill just ahead, tho soon crested dipping next, into another shallow another mud-bowl hollow ...
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poetry

echo

three words have me bound their whispered sound falling into the tall emptiness listen, as they echo rattle, and clatter in the stone hollow this, their only-- this, their honesty this, their return ...
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poetry

ragged and frayed

it’ll happen like it always does like the hollow shine in the frightened eyes of the ragged and frayed the silent moments will become hours and days the days will become weeks the weeks, months and one day years from now decades, perhaps we’ll be living life as much as ...
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poetry

top-shelf dreams

We kept our dreams on the top shelf, with the good liquor, tucked to the back, out of reach, saved for a time to come, saved for someday-- but we both knew; each of the days pulled over the shadowy edge, swimming into earth’s arched-spine spinning ecstasy, explodes into her ...
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poetry

perhaps, a poet

blood-fist anarchy might serve us more honestly than love, children than greedy gods my progeny je suis charlie they chanted and screamed still, the names the lonely stares freed-- this spinning chalk-circle riding stained-paper ships on spilled-crimson rivers among them perhaps a poet aye, perhaps-- the last perhaps the best ...
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poetry

briefly

they’d found a woman tied, and burned left, fetal, in the gravel by the train tracks north, a state or two she used to live-- somewhere near here in one of these gray-shingle, red-brick towns but I don’t remember which town she was from and I don’t recall her name ...
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poetry

beautiful fools

pale, under winter’s twilight love’s lace-gown apparition, silent tho, its flowing aura, glowing blurred, at the edges of blind-beggary’s ivory-eyed sight like a counterfeit memory the hues, bleeding into each another reaching out-- into the cold evening my fingers’ warm skin passes through-- night’s frozen breath where once we'd been ...
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poetry

not everyone

It was an empty store, filled with empty souls, tho the shelves, stocked, and everyone’s arms, and minds, filled with the nothing of everything that doesn’t matter. I slipped around the side aisle, away from the anxious crowd. I poured a self-serve coffee, and took it all in, like breathing ...
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poetry

simplicity

A mind grows weary of the rain’s falling assault, tho the sky never tires of its gray churn, and a mind starts to wonder-- what is it under this spray-vandal’s heaven, that is real? Is any of this-- sincerity, or is falsity the only sincerity which has ever been? Is ...
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poetry

halved-sun horizons

we are icebergs, lovers drifting in the cold sea colliding, in the randomness leaving gouged scrapes memory’s cleaved edges and itchy crystalline residue pieces of our leprosy left behind melting into the salt-foam waves as we carry on toward our halved-sun horizons all of us-- passerby ...
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