Over the white spaces in my sentences It snows star dust. I lick the frosting off the spoon in the kitchen. My language has well designed holes, As though my words were lace. Try as we might, We all carry Monday morning inside us. What I’d like to do is take my needle That my … Continue reading Language Holes
Category: poetry
Ever Closer to the Secret
In a hall of mirrors I do not reflect. Radar cannot smell me Though I move ever closer to the secret. My face is tempered glass And my feet are temperamental. What does the red bird, Beak open with no song, Signify? Climb among my immortal diamonds And find out.
What Comes Next…
White catastrophe of spilled milk. I let the lizards have the garden. Some frightening ambrosia will be drunk by two people too mummified in receipts to be in love. What comes next but neckties and nectarines? I cry awhile and the spider tells me my face is much cleaner.
A Poem in Progress
As you can see from the title of this site, I'm a writer. Usually I write poetry, but I sometimes dabble in non fiction or science fiction or a little bit of speculative fiction. Here is a poem I have been working on. Thunder is hard To sleep on as I drift in the breeze. … Continue reading A Poem in Progress
