Procrastination |
I'll get around to this poem
round its edges until it sharpens to a point.
I'll find time hidden in cushions and azure silks,
then,
grind the stone down with my nose,
tomorrow.
Posted by on Sat, 20 Sep 2008 00:54:00 GMT |
Slow motion bullet through various objects |
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=emP5D9Klssg
Posted by on Thu, 04 Sep 2008 14:05:00 GMT |
The Ninth |
The two stand alone,
bedraggled in morning dew,
feathers spread to dry in the sunrise,
a mated pair, Florida Ospreys
hold regal reign
from the top-most light post
in a six-mile radius.
Three years now...
Posted by on Mon, 24 Mar 2008 15:07:00 GMT |
Rainmaker |
Into everylife a little rain must fall
But I make the rain, choose desperation
or destruction.
Atropical downpour.
Atypical summerday.
Perhaps Saturday.
Over the clerk's snide smile,
beneath his bul...
Posted by on Wed, 05 Mar 2008 08:07:00 GMT |
A NEW FRICKEN POEM- My Last Night on Aeaea |
My Last Night on Aeaea
Peel back the spongy hours
that cling to my skin like lampreys.
Their sucker rounded maws of gnashing teeth
seeking soft underflesh or exposed tendons.
Seas of sharks circle....
Posted by on Fri, 15 Feb 2008 20:22:00 GMT |
Living |
Living
That night I walked through the graveyard
and followed the cherry of my stolen cigarette
and swerved between scaly tombstones
and plastic flowers in plastic vases
and kicked the tiny American ...
Posted by on Fri, 15 Feb 2008 18:56:00 GMT |
A Thousand Minutes |
A Thousand Minutes
She never walked in moonlight,
or descended the stair cloaked
in her nudity.
Subtle as the spikes
in a thousand miles of railroad,
sublime as a thousand thumbtacks.
...
Posted by on Fri, 15 Feb 2008 18:53:00 GMT |
Sparring |
Sparring
We stay at arms distance,
reading the telegraph of punches.
Instinctively deciding to block
or counter,
as aggression and dominance shift between us.
In the late rounds,
frustrating jabs mak...
Posted by on Thu, 13 Dec 2007 00:51:00 GMT |
Heather’s condition day 2 |
Heather is in her second day in the burn unit at Shand's. She is in critical condition with 3rd degree burns from her waist up. The doctors anticipate that they will keep her unconscious for at least ...
Posted by on Sat, 01 Dec 2007 22:24:00 GMT |
Ropeswing at Winnesquam |
Behind me,the blond boys linein a crooked S from the mud-splattered oak,and thump each other's drippingand hairless chests,bragging backflips.
I grip the sour rope,smelling sweat and mildew,pulling sl...
Posted by on Thu, 29 Nov 2007 15:26:00 GMT |
