This Muddy Wake

Soon I’ll molt off my sun dried summer skin
And ditch the campfire and beer songs
To a cowboy’s goodbye, a wink and a smile
Knelling his shiny bell and his trusty steed
A sequin stitched requiem fallen fallow
Of Fall’s fraying executioner’s dark hood

New Anthology

I am pleased to announce that my poem Some Kind of Blue will be published and included in a new poetry anthology by Ingrid Wilson called, “The Anthropocene Hymnal: Songs of a self-defining Era”

Good News

She fell upon my hardcover
book on the lives of caterpillars
from a wispy cedar tree burl
I scared away an excited robin
and some boys with fishing poles
I watched her crawl back and forth
doing a 50 leg two step on my arm

A Galaxy Apart

There is this entire galaxy in me
Hidden, vast, nebulus, and expanding
Somedays I feel like I am going to burst
And puke my stars out onto the sidewalk
Then everyone will see what dark matter
And pulsars look like viscid and drowning
In a litre of orange juice, oatmeal and flax

Summer Air

Clinquant melodies of scattering leaves and seed Soughing plaintively between sunburned hollows Like perfumed tiny tourists from a passing charabanc Their lilacs’ scent of sweet sillage lingers for a puff Leaving painted imaginary doodles of agitated air behind Foregathering in the wakes of napes, and marooned nooks Of plumped and ripened orange bursting splurt lilyContinue reading “Summer Air”

Reclamation

I once loved the city and its gleaming promise
Of slicked back, urbane haute cultured praxis
Circus sideshows, embonpoint and spectacle
Where cinereous clad clouds hover like buzzards