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stay the night and wake with me
stay the night and wake with methe morning’ll come it’ll bein the deep of winterthere’ll be snowon the black branch outside the windowwhile you pull your boots oni’ll step out and start the cari’ll brush the snow from the windshield and when you comewe’ll sit and share the visioni’ll turn the heater on and when…
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wokeup satup legs swung bedtofloor stoodup dressed/ sweatpants yesterday’s tshirt/ walked
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through a hole in a wood
through a hole in a wood plank face of a tent on a fencepostbeaks wide open baby swallows two or three a band of amateur birds a choirof voices that haven’t maturedthat haven’t trained to singthey cheep cheepcheepfrom the stage that is a floorof block wood in a small house made of two one by…
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when the elector leaves dresden
when the elector leaves dresdenleaves his mother sophie to answerthe lords of saxony and the emperor’s menwhile he rides one may morning out on a palfreyaccompanied by his huntsman his falconera guest or two with an escortof squires apprenticed to the knights who ridecoursers and great horseswhen he arrives staysat his hunting palace at rochlitz…
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some of those
some of those spirits in the air over the mountain gathered themselves into a girlwind who wanted music before there was a word for music and slowly she began to dance and danced herself into a salsa dance and danced herself round and round and danced herself into a spin and spun faster and faster…
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once upon a time
Years ago, I submitted this poem to Pif Magazine for publication: They published only the first half of it. I wasn’t happy with the ending either; and for thirty years I tried to make a more satisfying ending for the poem, without success. Today, with more experience in reading and writing poems, it occurs to…
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a pregnancy begins with
a pregnancy begins witha decision to keep a kittenone that’s left behind in the middle of a summer night in which people emptyan apartment across the sidewalkinto a single box on a pickup trucka kitten that comes in the colourof a sky pregnant with rain one that mews and scratchesclaws at the outside of the…
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there’s horizon where memory begins
there’s horizon where memory beginsyesterdayi stopped at the old place on forty thirdthe house was bulldozed years agothe last traces hauled awayand yet it vaguely sitson the farthest horizoni’d point a fingerbut i know you see it toofrom here the painton the old wood siding looks crackedpeeled faded yellowedor yellow i’m not sureshow me the…
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beware
bewarethe hollow of the planet that revolveson the axis between the povertieson an old man’s shouldersit’s the oven that fills with firethen frost then again with fire the forgewhere forms the idea to steal the goldearrings from a lady’s lobesthe silver pendant from her throatand from her doublet the brassbrooches beware the ideathat becomes firm…
