Selection: Early Years

Waimea Bay

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 ›


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 —  

The Spider’s Widow

I stood on stairs. Shadow in night. My parents’ bed,  wretched sight: Spider’s limbs relaxed, coarse hairs lying back.  Mother’s fingers,  diamond-studded,   reaching over – liar, strokes a silvery web so soon, so soon after.   Daddy, oh Daddy stung dead. ****

Cat Night

This night is cool, Not like some nights When it slaps and jostles you, Like a cat swatting A cockroach between its paws, Until you escape inside, Only to be tormented  With its maddening meows To come out and wrestle…. Read More ›

My Old Man

My old man I saw him last night. He was standing there in slippers, Pajamas, Bathrobe tied tight. He said — He had trouble with his hearing, He had trouble with his sight, But, he said, Don’t worry, Jonathan, It’s… Read More ›

Drowning Poem

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.

Patty Hearst

I imagine you sitting shoeless On the weathered steps Of a sparse plank porch, Lost in a spider’s web Of bad, back county roads Where water pumps And outhouses Are just another slice Of homemade bread. Only in my mind… Read More ›

Pamela Poem

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.

The Explanation

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.

The Bar/The Dance

She wags her ass In front of his nose Like some bitch in heat Shimmering  Shimmering Until his wild eyes cloud And his nostrils flair  Swimming Swimming Until he lurches forward In his crude doggy paddle Humping straddle Humping straddle… Read More ›

Early Spring

Window watching Whisper white snow Blowing — In whirls and twirls Onto a slick, wet road, Flowing — Mush, waiting, Dripping drops of slush Down a drain pipe grating.   Window watching Whisper white snow Flying — Through the tangled,… Read More ›

In the Spring

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.