dear john |
because you can know:there is a place i like to go the sky is grey wet and stacked a skitzo ocean undecided below. and there are gullssquawking in the lulls i sit on the benches looking outa...
Posted by on Mon, 28 Apr 2008 18:59:00 GMT |
the mountain bed |
Do you still sing of the mountain bed we made of limbs and leaves? Do you still sigh there near the sky where the holly berry bleeds? You laughed as I covered you over with leaves Face, breast, hips, ...
Posted by on Sat, 25 Aug 2007 18:07:00 GMT |
songwriters are my heroes |
words are grasshoppers you know.
words are a wobbly shelf,
dont put your teacup there.
words are hearty travelers
stamped up passports in their mende...
Posted by on Sun, 03 Jun 2007 11:56:00 GMT |
ventanas polvosas |
trying, so very trying and wanting and needing and missing and
sitting around
myself.
too much looking, too much looking at the looking--
in this cattail town....
wine stains
dusty window panes
sing...
Posted by on Sun, 03 Jun 2007 11:20:00 GMT |
i am |
i am not ankle socks-
i am never white and lacy.
i am the cousin of happiness, visiting for chanukah.
i am the fallen raisin, destined to be turned into wine.
i am a white goose strutting and goofing ...
Posted by on Tue, 08 May 2007 21:56:00 GMT |
a haiku |
what soothes me now are
turned, cool cotton sheets yielding
to my endless nites
Posted by on Sun, 06 May 2007 15:49:00 GMT |
