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One night when skies have donned their stars And parted the lunar drapes Scattering silent bats to afar To huddle with their mates, We’ll fix our eyes northward, my dear, To distant lush Spring realms Where musicians play songs with cheer And nothing overwhelms. And we shall travail lovely streets With restaurants and bakeries, Serving…
Wait, I spoke to the highest star. It winked and bowed to dawn. Wait, I spoke to the low sun that set. Wait, moon. It just glowed on, gracing, gifting me with bright words. Wait, I spoke to my sad heart. It beat as a heart does, disobedient less it stop trembling…
In the hospital room the doc watches Death come, last breath a quiet sigh surrounding the crash of stats. He has visited Death’s country and left with its blue bruise stamp on his wrist and heart, very thoughts. No goodbyes. No regrets. None. Just schemes to betray it when it tries to betray him wrapped…
Elvis loved his peanut butter. Gladys, who loved him the most, as all good mothers love their children, would feed him grilled Hawaiian bread sandwich after sandwich of peanut butter with chopped caramelized bananas, or gently mashed fork bananas, sometimes with bacon, sometimes without. He dreamed of peanut butter and Gladys would feed…
Five smooth stones David culled from Elah’s brook, Shepherd knowing dense ones to fit sling’s crook. He released the first on Goliath’s shright the giant falling back dead with the smite. Goliath gazing into David’s eyes felt his blade render head for David’s prize. Head held high, high and tight, in David’s…
Footballs always dazzled me, composed boxes on the shelf, like pigskin half moons and suns needing tees from toppling down, a kick or a toss to send them hurling to human planets. The long run, perfect spiral is inherent in its form, as is carnage, grace, error. Its life is moving forward in the…
Read More "Footballs Are Made for Running, Tossing and Fumbling"
The rear view mirror showed the car on fire. Metal no protection for burning flesh— burning down to the color of the night— a bright reversal reflected in white. Maybe charred bone? Not hell. Neither heaven. Police, EMTs too late to save the tissues smelling like pan steak, fatty pork— blood emitting its metallic compounds—…
The virus news carries me from room to room. A Verdi aria breaks the solemn chant of the rising death tolls in my brain as Italians sing to the sick below, voice to voice forming a single line of hope, that filters down to the lonely windows, my electric screen, all the world’s tablets. The…
She is the way they left her: silent, shuttered, composed amidst disarray, the waiting chair unmoved, her body draped in final coverings, spider rays webbing the room, the overhead light unused, the bed sagging forever in the center after this, the sun fighting with the weight of shadows on her bedspread. The corners of her…
