John had problems.But so did all of us. This is not my storyto tell -yetthere are girlswho wentto his house tosee if he was kidding aboutbaking himselfin his mom’s oven,and they learnedthat he woreboxer shortsand slatheredhimself with oleo margarine,and in fact,could hardly geta leg in the pre-heatingoven before tipping the whole thingforward ontothe linoleum with … Continue reading Belly Burns
Dogwood of Desire
I want you to bloom the way you did 15 years ago Tree of springtime, bright stars against so much green. I want your younger tree self, your flourish, your promise. The way you recede these days reminds me of the Thin skin on my neck, fine white hair, the snow I find lately on … Continue reading Dogwood of Desire
Empty Mouth
This dandelion This daffodil clump This dying maple This brittle skin Empty mouth This humorless day This And not much play In me Days you want to quit The thing This thing And can’t even Make fun of Yourself or Take a ribbing Find a future In fuscia Look for a clue In the color … Continue reading Empty Mouth
The Visible To Be; The Story of Hand Reading
web of secrets between pink mounds love’s cavernous criss cross life in the lines beginnings endings on the lip of every precipice outward signs tell a story we cannot trace all the way back to baby hands that reached for a face this river after storm takes what we cherish forward seaward our hands scarred … Continue reading The Visible To Be; The Story of Hand Reading
Aquifer (day26)
As brackish water sputters from the ancient well pump, nut brown, then ocher, all the rusted line innards, heaving upwards, defying gravity, grows paler when blue stone opens the way, we celebrate the waters now, pouring clear, hard, clean, unconfined- And so are we this rosy morn, rising to greet the day, moving as we … Continue reading Aquifer (day26)
Glosa #1
The new root of the fern is the part you eat in famine. Harsh words are spoken, but they’re not the ones that make you turn. Where the muscle’s smooth. That’s where it doesn’t fray. The hard part is what comes easy. The hard part isn’t hard. From The Hard Part by Clare Jones Our … Continue reading Glosa #1
Lightning
NapoWriMo 2022 Day 1 They look like purple clouds, depending on the light. Floating just below the surface of my skin, at my wrists, on my feet, crucifixion-like bruises that my dermatologist reports may never fade. These are only the scars you’d see as many more hide under my cottons and wools. I turn for … Continue reading Lightning
Early Morning Poems 