Bodies fly close overhead glittering geese eyes turning my body to track invisible, lovely dark honk. 0
Category: Book o’ Verse
Lift
Up on those shoulders. Over that soft tummy, the gray-haired chest slopping in. Sitting up there, hands clutched together in clumps of see-through white. He walks you around the edge of the lake. It feel so light up there on…
haiku
both kids at other kids’ houses two toothbrushes standing by the sink. 0
Snow lights
Snow lights the heavens you sparkle at me cold soft indentations that last a week or so the footprints crushed the heavens sparkle at me cold you snow. 0
Big letters in the window of a used car shop in Northern California
“75 years, same coffee.” Don’t trust fancy coffee drinkers, they’re saying. Or at least, do trust people who are constant — fixed, unflinching with scorched taste buds. Give your money to the folks who say Go to hell, cappuccino. Go…
I’ll admit it
I ate a chocolate whopper today. A cookie that was so chocolatey that in the molecular space where there’s usually air or maybe some kind of eerie vacuum with a faint ringing tone there was no air or vacuum. There…
Do You Love Bad Guys the Best?
Here’s another libretto that spilled out of my soon-to-be-seven-year-old son. He sang this one last weekend while puttering around his bedroom. To me, it sounds sort of like something written in 1200 BCE and then translated in the 1950s. I…
Dawn in the Midnight
Kids write the darndest verse. A while back I posted a poem or two by my daughter Shonny. Here’s one from my six-year-old son. He doesn’t really talk like this, but every once in a while he’ll belt out a…
Now more than ever (age 39)
Now more than ever we could all really use a yearbook photographer. Whispering ’round the quad. Snapping photos of us and our respective pals through the zoom lens of a swank 35mm Canon (Christmas gift) as we participate in various…
No Rest for Anne Frank
Anne Frank was resting. The day before she had bested the Werewolf. The day before that, an alien robot had burst into the attic. But there’s no rest for Anne Frank. Through a small window ringed with pencil-drawn tulips, you…