It is winter a street sweeper sweeps leaves up from Main Street I’m sitting with my notebook writing a poem about the symbolism of phlegm remnants of furtive strategies the morning tries to wake me the cars to support me the cold ground to go around me an idea passes by about…
My Enemies on W.S. Merwin My enemies slide through the crowd oily as snakes They are Death dressed in a coat of smiles My enemies are part of the war in which they do not care for the enemy but kill their comrades in the trenches My enemies continue to live undisturbed…
Gravel I should have let my hair go gray, the color of plain river rocks, which either sit or roll with currents rolling them. I can’t stand upon a stump of old and worn eraser heads. Walk/dissolve have equal signs between the words, between the efforts tied to them. I swallow gravel spits of…
I went wandering again last night through the submerged trees caught in a summer flood half delighting in their watery feet and though the forest was submerged by some trick of the dream my path was clear and bright a winding sunny way through wild flowers and buzzing bees the occasional dragon fly…
They came in a pack of four. The wolves from the Justice Department descended on my father once the disease became too advanced to conceal. Sometimes he recognized them for the enemy they were but there were instances when he thought they were old acquaintances and he wanted to reminisce about incidents that they had…
The Track This track is bloated with the grotesque and mad in their low-wage dresses and top-dollar perfumes, whoring their hearts for Vegas magic as angels trumpet perverse songs of praise for the thoroughbreds racing through the crimson mist. But under these halogen skies my faith is restored by the men of the raceway and…
