1371 7 3
|
In winter The Woods sleeps and the Woodsman comes. He collects the dead wood and makes coal. He nurses the injured animals and prepares the dying. He distributes the snow and regulates the temperature. In his fur hat…
|
1371105
|
It's been twenty years since you left. I should call it a day.Even the Obeah woman said as much. But I don't listen. Instead I sit with old and proper ethnic widows in black, waiting for your return. One of them translates my story for the…
|
137131
|
Warning: Open and read before making any dumb-ass New Year's resolutions.
|
137162
|
The goose on the roof isn’t aware it is doing anything odd...
|
137165
|
|
137165
|
was about a girl/he never met/across cold steel tracks/at cold sunsets.
|
137162
|
So I lopped off his head and reworked the creation...
|
137185
|
|
137111
|
Charlie's recurring fantasy emerged from its hiding spot as he finished his fourth Old Fashioned. He'd be on his back; she'd be astride him. A strong, assertive young woman with her hands planted on his chest and her hair falling forward over her face.
|
137041
|
Pinnacles
State Park
lying on our backs
stoned on hash
around a campfire
looking up at the
clear see-through
blue green stars
to the other side
of the universe
I know now
you are out there
I float up to
within 2
|
137010
|
When you see him, you'll know.That's what the prophecy was. Well, part of it, at least. The prophecy that Tabitha was to be the next Earth mother. That when she saw her partner, she would know. Keith, and his mission partner, and the elders, they had made it so. Made it…
|
137051
|
4th of July weekend, Woodland canyon, summer heat like the Garden of Eden, lush, green, secluded. She lay by the creek in a lounge chair under dappled shade from the sycamore trees, listening to the frogs jump and the birds sing, admiring the orange tiger lilies that…
|
13701410
|
The knees remind you: you are old,/
and broken, and unlikely to improve
|
137011
|
of Jim Beam when I was maybe fifteen. Or anyway old enough to admire the lesson.
|
137011
|
These were the kind of days children dreamed of. A warm sun shone over Coronado, California. December weather on the island did not prevent outside play. The wind off the bay remained soft, even if chilled. Church let out early. There was time to pla
|
137000
|
Yes, my old uncle liked roses. Grew them. He had a way of smelling a rose—after he smelled a rose, you are surprised the rose is still there.
|
137097
|
Even word dancers need rest.
|
137012
|
A possum sits on a fence. The fence is downtown in a not-very-big town. Hard to say about possums and fences; this is not the first possum to sit on a fence. Once, during a suburban backyard party a possum sat on a fence and observed. Before long he could walk more…
|
137064
|
bassackward/in the surreal/bathroom mirror
|
137041
|
This artist has a wonderful sense of line and color. Abstract is not my métier, but I appreciate the art behind this painting. It helps to copy it. You sleep with it for a time and, like a woman, you learn her passions and taboos.
|
137065
|
I'm fascinated by Don's evolution . . .
|
137041
|
The next moment is a convergence made from a single repeating sequence that disappears behind the voice that tells of it.
|
137000
|
A tanka poem about Jolly Old Nick being black as hell.
|
136932
|
The train seemed unusually empty this morning. Not that I minded, the night before the train had picked up three travelers which brought the car’s capacity to about half. Two men and a woman. Luckily, I wasn’t burdened with any as a seating companion. Mak
|
136961
|
|
136932
|
In retrospect, we should have been a cult.
|
136974
|
Everybody breaks.
Everything splinters.
|
1369105
|
salmon sits gentler on my palate
|
136922
|
The Fourth Defenestration took place in September of that year, and it became an instant internet sensation. Mostly because of the fall from great heights into an enormous pile of haufen mist, arranged by a bunch of henchmen pals of Boris and Vladimir
|
13691311
|
My books wound you. They wound me / too.
|
