Poetry

DALI SET Self-Portrait 1921, Salvador Dalí out of cross-hatchshadow from underthat battered hat brimcast your cool eyeon everything more weightythan my usual fluxsmoke one last pipefor the old meistersbefore you melt the past Flaming June, Museo de...

ODE TO THE WIND To the wind,I wonder, where you're goingWhere you've beenYou've blown across mountains, forests, seasYou've blown across polar ice caps & cities of treesYou've blown in valleys, over hills and plainsBirds fly...

“Late Summer Sunday Afternoon Hike” Hiking late summer Sunday afternoon,Sun yet strong still.What does it matter,Where do we go? Venule-shaped verdant leaves,Now surround me everywhere.Colorless sky staring back overhead,Giving off a soulless glow. Distant bird tweeting,Now flying...

I. What Colour is Peace and Home? Is it to consume the gothic or expend the sublime?Would coloured value survive in white that seethes number?For all known times, when colours be at peaceable rest, white...

The Body Needs Blood My father smoked cigarettes,pack a day,enough to punctuate every sentence with a coughI began to wait for a cough at the end of each sentenceSome were louder than othersThe others were...