Category Archives: Poetry

Meta-Foray* at Character’s Corner March 7, 2017 The basket that she puts before me Gives off memory of county fairs. Deep fried things all smell the same no matter where you are. “What are we drinking?” she inquires. “An IPA … Continue reading →

Not risotto, you fool. Radicchio. Participation mystique: “a kind of psychological connection with objects in which the subject cannot clearly distinguish himself from the object.” To this I dedicate my work in the coming year. Number One Off to the … Continue reading →

Tonight the wind came up. I watched the birth of white caps. A solitary cormorant, head like a worked point, flew low across the bay. Later, the dog and I played fetch the decoy. The cat watched from a bleached … Continue reading →

Gordon Blue and Bobby Burns…..met up once in Ulan Bataar Said old Bobby to Gordon I’m a dying of boredom Let’s go in to that nice Irish bar I rode in at dawn On a camel named Khan And my thirst’s … Continue reading →

Easy to Empty My Mind Here: A Few Poems from Mongolia August 17, 2011 at 7:51pm #1 Flap of felt in wind Outside, camels close their eyes Sleep is hard to come. #2 Morning sun subtle Dawn breaks without announcement … Continue reading →

Memoir A hare’s breath or a hair’s breadth? I’ve come that close to the edge so many times. I choose the sweet hare’s breath then use her whiskers to measure how nearly I’ve come to missing my appointment with destiny. … Continue reading →

Bipedalism is Uncritically Accepted as a Given Among Humans   “Walking assuages or legitimizes…alienation.” Wanderlust: A History of Walking, Rebecca Solnit         July 32 2014   I did not crawl. Some say that’s a shame And did something to the development … Continue reading →

In the Charnel House 12/11/2011 In the charnel house of my still breathing soul, There hangs, on rusted peg, a long descending scale of ancient thoughts. Nearby are meaty ribs, the outlines of the things I meant to do. I … Continue reading →

  For Steven April 19, 2014 On this dark and weepy day A fury of pink petals storm against my cheeks And rain stains my eyes with what I know now to be tears. This flurried April day you would … Continue reading →

Thanksgiving Suite: 2014     Rain Check The knife trembled in the hand of a resigned father But God said kill a ram instead So he did But God kept a rain check And never forgot And ultimately the lamb … Continue reading →