Thursday, July 29, 2010


Not all my hunches
Are readable. Not every
Problem is solved by a poem.
Still, trying is no more path-
etic than a moth at a bulb,
No less natural.
Someday it will turn out to
Be the soft edge of the sun I touch
Instead of a glass wall.
Maybe I'll burn up or just
Turn around, bringing an-
other poem to the ground
Wondering where to plant.


Friday, July 23, 2010

Odd Thoughts, Even Now

A flying fish or a sunken tree
A zeppelin or a submarine
A rock not tossed, dry between rains
Another underwater also remains
Wet yet dry in the middle grains
If you could check.
A diving bird or a floating duck
Each could be the same
Mistaken for the other at another
Time and place


Thursday, July 22, 2010


I'm thinkin' if I don't
Give 'em an inch maybe
They won't take a mile.
I made my friend smile and say
"They'll take a mile either way.


Saturday, July 17, 2010

Marching Through

July is hot today. Even at
Night the heat stays in
Pavement and buildings.
The breeze is asleep while
House lights blink on for
Insomniac reading or T.V.
Even many pets are pacing
Just to feel the air move.


Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Turning Bad

You creepy children scream
Scared of your pillow again
Wearing pajamas in public
Hoping to skip a night of sleep
Screeching the wheels
Bought with Daddy's blood
Rolling the windows against
Money from Mommy's love
Stinking of bitch cocaine
Smiling like a frozen corpse
Dressed for your funeral


Friday, July 09, 2010

Flowers To Follow

They are beautiful.
That being said, I have been where the flowers
By their sheer numbers, wore my eyes
Way out and I got blurry.
This is not a brag, the city planted
In crisp regular boxes,
A brilliant unfolding display.
I don't want to buckle under guilt,
It's not so serious as that,
I want stronger eyes or deeper to
Let so many petals in.


Tuesday, July 06, 2010


Too close to my ear
With scant impedance
Though full distortion
Spits and growls almost
Words. Not music, just words
Projected with emotion.
Scattered like chicken feed.
It's hard not to seek an author.
When I do try, spaces fill
With imagination sight.
I stumble on my discovery
Of messages in the air.