October 31, 2017

In Just Passing Through (Paycock Press, paper) M. Scott Douglass has elevated the two-stroke engine to the sublime.  Here we do not need to worry about maintenance, for the poet’s sure hands guide us through that which is actually important, the trip itself, not the in...

October 31, 2017

          “The very thought of it sets my heart aflutter.”


          She repeated herself. He looked at her with his eyes narrowed and his lips curled so that they almost made a question mark shape lying sideways...

October 31, 2017

          There were times, Davis would admit now, and only now, now that everything and nothing was at stake, that he had been truly happy. These would be the opening gambits, the first moves, the early rushes of desire: the catch of breath when he saw a woman’s hair...

October 31, 2017

          I got another postcard from Howard today, said he was in Harrisburg, staying at the Howard Johnson’s there.  It was part of his cross country Howard Johnson stays at Howard Johnson’s tour.  “They’re going out of business.  Pretty soon...

October 31, 2017


when i die

i just want

my wife

to dump

my tired


right on

the porch

none of

that fancy





where every

one goes


the room


their true blue


& bullshit


& excuses


just wanting

to hear their

own voices

in warhol’...

October 31, 2017


Crouched in the paddies with the wounded

Waiting hushed until  the hum

Like a loud dragonfly, the rotors whirring.

Bird they whispered. Birdbirdistheword.

Named that colt for those lofty

Memories of rescue. A certain promise.

He could fly. Won the million do...

October 31, 2017

The Neighbor Killed Snakes

Each spring they swarmed the Jehovah woman's garden,

ten or twenty a day, hundreds in the length of a week.

Somewhere from an underground nest, they bust forth

like weeds, bamboo shoots you can't keep down.

And in the afternoon sun, before her dau...

October 31, 2017

And She Moves

(On some lines from Nick Cave / for Naomi)

And she moves among the sparrows

and seed falls from her hand

like droplets from the fingers

of Aphrodite in a fountain

And she moves among the shadows

and light trickles from her fingertips

like grains of wheat scatteri...

October 31, 2017

Casting Off

Rose had taken to reusing paper plates.

She’d brush them off—a bit of grease didn’t matter.

Another cheese sandwich, chips over the stain.

She’d get three or four uses out of it. Why not?

She saved water, soap, and time.

Time she had precious little of these days...

October 31, 2017

Cezanne  Speaks to Artists Who Wait to be Inspired

“I struggle with the meaning of life.

I paint the ambiguous appearance of reality,

and the absurdity of death.

Red apples roll in the crease of my canvas

tempting limits of line and space.

Though I have not tried everything...

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