Can a Pool Sparkle, and a Poem Shine? Nov. 1, 2022
I drain the pool’s water with a pump that must be unplugged before it sucks air at the same time shedding lots of slippery ideas to...
I drain the pool’s water with a pump that must be unplugged before it sucks air at the same time shedding lots of slippery ideas to...
it’s a dog nap afternoon but I’ll keep my eyes open for awhile follow thoughts that drag through windless leaves everything heat-stilled...
God damn it’s hot should never be as cursed as Jesus Christ it’s cold I never thought I’d get goosebumps while burning up but my skin...
a poem written in the dentist’s waiting room may only have to do with our not so pearly or so white teeth if fillings had feelings or if...
something present as I knit lyrics into stanzas it turns over my feelings tosses away thoughts throws back new ones with a breath so...
each morning short arms in an old house coat sweep the walkway back and forth metronoming flawlessly towards the house she leans the...
in the instant it calls one never knows if they’ll end up hero or coward either way they’d get a hug from me the hearty bearhug for...
mine are like foot thorns dug in gone from sight pussy painful bandaged with social makeup meaningless diversions with an artificial...
always polite and welcoming as tree shade on a hot day but today he approaches shakes my hand and says “God Bless you and God bless me”...
my friend told me the quick version redwing blackbirds nest in tall grasses that he at 7 and his sister could reach they stole a baby ...
don’t know why I poured half my bottle of water over the dying bush with the whisper of a final wish is a soldier bleeding out or a...
except for the wrinkled elephant skin on the sole and the big toe’s cabinet knob on its knuckle odd too the fat blue veins that...
when two trees touch for the first time I see leaves hugging and hands clasping as if watching each other separate for so long spurs a...
it’s really the perfect time with writing tablet freshly in hand pen in the other and two free hours for a quick check on the salt level...
I gather shells and stones scrounge for bleached bones driftwood seaweed anything oddly beached I guess I’m a shoreline poet the washed...
if you’re still afraid a thunderstorm is an angry god who throws bolts pounds his chest pukes rain then it’s still a cave but with...