We can’t just bomb Berlin or Dresden,/ Nagasaki or Hanoi, to make things safe

I stopped for a squirrel in the street today And let him pass, even though I could have flattened his ass. Even though his brothers and friends Have been eating my cactus plants And a flock of hungry crows Were seen circling and looking Fo

I saw a small deer by the side of the road, driving home under darkness, while the wind was under a rose.

I can confirm nothing/ but impressions of the world// that appear beyond my/ body’s reach.

Have you ever heard a bird sneeze? Okay, okay, I was sitting on this branch, and you know how everybody loves to hate poetry, right? So, I ran into some hippies, who had named their daughter Echinacea, and you could instantly read her future, and

I was walking my Belgian Wafflehound Past the Belgian waffle shop I found a penny on the ground And did a tiny little hop I spun around and went inside The Belgian waffle shop And bought a little waffle For my Belgian Wafflehound I

But then there were car windows bashed out on both sides Glass on the ground like Kristallnacht

Your self-effacement hid/ so much of you// until you died and the full/ inked legacy shown in light