She crosses the sand aloof The cool loner on a retreat, No one owns her but the sea and the beach. She chooses her spot Unties the mid-drift knot Of her unbuttoned shirt. Casually she steps out of her… Read More ›
Selection: Early Years
I know How a run-over Road runner Feels. A crushed Red carcass Under Texan wheels.
I once Believed I held A vision, But it Was all in — My head. Everything I say Says Nothing, And nothing — Needs said. Where have I gone To come To this? I wish I —
Your eyes are alive As a smiling moon Whispers in the night. Beautiful Did I mention to say? Alive Alive Happy and alive I soar Miles beyond my stride.
You aren’t what you say, Better off that way; You are what you said, Alive or dead.
She slept with a frog She thought him a prince I slept with a dog Haven’t seen her since
I found myself drowning In a sea of love And like the Nautilus I couldn’t get help from above But unlike the Nautilus It wasn’t a major expedition I went to a fishing hole I was only fishing.
My father Sinking in After all these years Him again.
Slick Black Shoes Chat Click Clack Click Clack
I love you/ I hate you I’m inconsistent that way; I’m a merry-go-round Up and down each day. I ignore you/ I adore you I can’t keep it straight; You’re a bowl of mixed vegetables Carrots awful, peas great.
Opps! Look at me — As I turned to trot, Tail swishing sly, That horn-rimmed, steel quilled Porcupine Pricked My Impregnable hide, Opening me wide, And A pretentious roar Turned cold And An adolescent Coughed.
I saw myself a tiger, You said, lamb, instead; I saw myself a dagger, Butter knife, you said.
He shovels his walk Like an old man, Pleased at having Something to do with His hands and mind, Grateful for the excuse To stand in the winter sun And peer at salt-crusted cars.
She sticks out through the sores, Though the room is full of blisters. She seeps through the stench Of the pus-people, Removing the filth bandage, Reviving the gangrene limbs, Restoring two hundred pounds To a bed-ridden invalid.
I swim in her lips I swim along She swallows my movement She swallows my song
He struck Like a machine gun Splattering the plates Across the floor. She sits wounded At the table Of a bloody Battlefield.
There was a moment When I was three feet away When a buddy-check Would have saved the day
I thought we were two through summer, though fall I felt your sting. I tried revival all winter, but I couldn’t survive a thing, and just when I thought blossoms arrived, the skies cried this spring.
I don’t live in the East I don’t live in the West I live in my head And it suits me best