Words
A Spate of Poets
They’re everywhere – !behind bushes, on benches,under bridges, in the hedges,eyes shiningtoo much.
I’ll be the log in your fire place. Let our nostalgia ...
When Hurricane Hearts Discuss Retrogrades
Roguish Mercury went on a wicked mission this round,
squared up with Pluto to shine racism in the limelight—
Black boy shot at for needing school...
Thanksgiving
When we arrived in this unknown placewe knit together in a waythat made me want to shoutthis, this is my family.How could you know...
Solstice Eve
Mystic morning, snow-laced, leafless branchesof treed sentinels, faint outlines.
Merge into the fog, awaiting the Sun’s return,awake, not asleep, aware.
Of Oneness with the Great...
The Studio
My mind is unwritten musicAnd a million notes played at once:A blank stave overflowing.And in this chaotic emptinessLies the melody that seeks to be...
When I Was
When I was a rock
I knew patience
and slowly,
my sharp edges
became smooth
While tree
I knew squirrels,
...
The Gift Inside
Surprisingly dominant
the hard world —
flags and batons,
limos and air-conditioners,
mounted mooseheads,
bullets.
Our soft bodyshells
must conform or be shed.
Yet the totems
within our heads
are not lampposts
without lamps.
Nothing the...
walking through
i’ll walk into your forests and in the shadows of your mind i’ll walk along these winding paths to see what i might find
i’ll walk...
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...
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...
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...
Free Poetry Skool @ Downtown Public Library
Poets gather
like words on a page
scribed in their own handwriting
as illustrious lines
they embody poetic form
— such as , a tercet , perhaps —
where this...


















