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This poem begins my poetry collection. It is about the pain and suffering I experienced when I had an attack of two pulmonary embolisms, one in the right lung, one in the left. This nearly killed me. I lived with the pain in my lungs whenever I took a bre
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3063105
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All that loves green produces green.
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the only thing that impresses me now
is the state of my inebriation
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Figures are a strip tease.
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An eye patch waits aslant his passenger seat.
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There's a nice line in M. Tafuri's essay “Architecture and Cities in the United States 1870-1910” concerning the relationship between land values and building costs:“… whereas the simple parceling-up of surface lots is the product of an elementary…
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Here were men trying their best to kill other men....
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burning for You, caught in between, yearning to remain completely wrapped around Your finger, feeling panoramic, and this alive.
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Staring at my $10 All Star Breakfast with extra bacon
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The blue bird tapped at my window and pecked my crumbs. I talked to him as to a small person about the things of life, of flowers, of trees and the sky. Even at times pretending he was erudite, I questioned him about evolution and extinction. He looked at me as if he…
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The wind comes up relentless
in the afternoon
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The couple sit at an outside table at McDonalds.
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Blank space / governs the minds of small children
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Meagan rides the subway with perfect lips and deep thoughts, looking moody out the smudged window like an actress in a Sofia Coppola film.
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The ambient sound wheezes on.
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Does it ever happen to you to wish to talk to somebody? Just somebody. Anyone. A stranger you might meet. Just to talk. About anything, even of the rain. Of the sore you have on your foot, of the daffodil in bloom, of everything and nothing. This lady sat at my…
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Let it rage.
I shall not suppress you.
Let your rage speak to you of the sorrow it hides,
until your sadness swallows you whole.
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I was sitting on the steps in the entryway to our apartment building taking off my running shoes when I spotted a paperclip on the floor. I assumed it had fallen from the mail that my wife had just taken from our mailbox. Once my shoes were removed, I went down to pick…
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A glance—I dissolved completely.
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Sometimes words are carved in stone, but you won't find these in this poem
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Chris and I have an understanding. We've been playing cops and robbers all morning, running around and stirring up shit.
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Erma's last task, as it happened...
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the space between two antelopes
is a canyon,
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Friday night, 80s halcyon,a memory of October bowling.The suburban lanes loudwith kids and kinetic releaseof balls slamming on maple.I have no footwork, no senseof release, fingers sweatyin the grips, resin droppingwith a hollow boomfollowed by derision from more adept…
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