Poetry

  • Lies

    1. Always I feel it bloating like a tumor a weight, a shape brushing my thighs as I wade into sleep. The water is warm like my blood flat as a kitchen table my face dances there in sun circles the water is a caress. Then a fin breaks the surface coming fast. 2. You…

  • He Live With Bears

    Ol’Sam he go by the code of the hills, he paddle his raft into Teaberry Mills an gun down all the squares. “Take that, you rats!” he spit through his teeth, he toss’em a dead skunk for a wreath an fiddle away his cares. The woods she perk up all her ears, O m’darlin dance…

  • Found Poems

         Thomas Gray, 27 March 1767      Fine, but cold. Wd. Brisk at N.E. Saw the      Maloc Proscargh: abroad: it was the male.      Pilewort in bloom: & Red Currant on a North wall.      Gnats stinging.      Mrs. Mason Died.

  • Inflamation

    Bang! 1917 & a Victorian Milan. That bang was the Garcia Crespo works gone up from munitions, 400 women, their long hair gone, have gone up with 150,000 rounds. Vickers guns emplanted on the line stayed quiet for two days near Trieste. A company of Yugoslavs convinced themselves that peace had come, threw down their…

  • Photographic Life

    No matter what’s the photograph, you’re the man in the center always making sense. Look through the family album, grandma’s first beau, the nice guy who, vaguely, disappeared. Dad in the leather flier’s jacket, a plane called ANZIO BELLE. In the background’s the waist gunner they chipped out of a pile of shells & frozen…

  • Why I Am Tormenting You

    You are a name I have taken at random from the phone directory. Soon we are exchanging recipes for bread. You confess none of your boy friends chat as well as I do. Your life history is fascinating. I continue to torment you. You tell me this doesn’t matter. Since we’ve started talking you’ve gotten…