It seemed to me that the old family house of my boyhood was being razed. The three-story brick front had been sheared away. Sunlight glared on the wallpaper. I saw the living room and through the French doors the dining room. I looked into my room. No bed. No bookcase. No desk. Snow began to…
1 Start with the brightest star in the square of Pegasus. Follow the row of stars running Northeast across the heavens, below Cassiopeia. That’s Andromeda chained to her rock. Find the one star that makes you question your vision. That’s the Andromeda Nebula, a hundred billion stars spinning like a pin-wheel, so far away that…
I am not immune to your pleas of transformation. Today I burned all my socialist verse. Outdoors, a gust of wind lifted the oak leaves into a momentary show of hands. To build a life, brimming, like roses after rain, we pour contents from flask to flask, to float some dream. Yesterday we fed the…
A person blown to bits do not fold, mutilate or bend.
Milky Way, River of Heaven, River of Shepherd’s Hut, River of Nana, Silver River, Snake River, River of Light, Celestial River, Cloud-eating Shark, Great Serpent, Bed of the Ganges, Heavenly Girdle, Ashy Path, Path of the Ghosts, Path of the Snake, Path of the Chopped Straw Carriers, Way of the Sun, Woden’s Way, Bird’s Way,…
If only a quiet taxidermist moved in this time! Imagine, he’d sew fox paws all night, polish the delicate nails until they shone like black glass. Or a silent movie actress running her old films with shaking, arthritic hands, the reels barely clicking. Why not a crabby postman unpacking canvas sacks stuffed with dead letters…
We sit here on the window sill in the little chairs high above the snow. You wear your summer skin behind your eyes— clear as this window pane.
A god was a time tub and A mane was a name but God mite saw and but a Tub dog—saw and mite a Saw saw dog but was god Was tub but saw a but Saw dan—was a time tub But god was a time and Shut up Art Garfunkel Uskers
A woman sobs on the toilet. Hearing her through the wall, I imagine the pink lace unraveled from her nightgown as she strokes her knees. Upstairs there’s a pop. I suppose a retired barber spread lather on a balloon to test his swollen hands; now he’ll hang himself. No, perhaps two teenagers shyly undressing for…
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