it may just be
a timely coincidence
but have you noticed
the last circle of hell
in dante’s inferno
ends in the cold
betrayal of ice
(February 17, 2026)
Category: awareness
-
- Climate
another warm day
too warm for February
the knife’s at our throat
belief thrives in a stasischange requires an awareness
2) Predictive Value in Metaphoreach morning we ask
after the night’s restlessness
as if a portent
one thing is like anotherthus as above so below
(February 10, 2026)
-
Maise, our dog, lounges on the over-stuffed arm
of the old leather chair which squats squarely
next to a bare window in the front room.
The late afternoon sun pours bright puddles
of warmth on the floor for her to bathe in;
and from which, if inclined, she may muster
yips and growls at people slowly walking
their sweatered dogs on the sidewalk outside.
I fear falling on ice still lingering
on neighborhood paths, so we stay inside.
But that is just an excuse, I hate cold
weather as much as I tolerate heat’s
dominion during the long summer months.
Even when I, like this poem, go nowhere.
-
In this dream,
I unfold other maps
between petulant winds.
In this place, I am known,but not by this name,
not in this direction.
I have lost my way.It was a mistake
to come here today.
Ignorance always wins,because it does not know
it lost long ago.
Tracing a vein in my arm,I find a way home.
(January 17, 2026)
-
I want to worry
about our dogs
barking randomly
along the back fence
at shadows and leaves
while the occasional squirrel
fusses at them
from the safety of a tree.
Instead wolves roam the streetsfur stiff with dried blood;
and eviscerated prey
muddy the snow,
while neighborhood dogs
howl through the night.
(January 14, 2026)
-
“the world is too much with us”
-W. Wordsworth
no longer the getting and blind spending
though that is still here teeming at our feet
like low-level radiation leaking
into the spongey ground we walk upon
but the powerful’s thick drooling anger
flailing curses wildly on everyone
that does not resemble their idea
of a pastoral past they never knew
this is the time I have come to live ina time where the soft smell of hope lingers
like a dusty corpse left alone at home
when to be cloaked in ironic disdain
is to disguise an intellectual
self-revulsion that equivocates death
(January 10, 2026)
-
The full moon’s near Jupiter—
as if I can know
what someone else has told me.
I believe and see
the sky unfold around me,
each star in its place
fixed tightly with divine faith.
I know only this:
my truth is only my truth.
The chihuahua knows
he must go into the dark;
I open the door.
He barks at a Great-horned owl
who stares into the cold night.
(January 4, 2026)
-
Memory is all that we are,
and all that we are is what
we remember. These days
I often forget why I enter
a room as I enter. I’m forced
to wait on the blurred past
with its dead possibilities
to catch up to my present.
We sit comfortably couchedabout the room. We confess
our stories again, shifting
scenes to allow for shapes
which differ, to be polite,
from others in other rooms.
(December 28, 2025)
-
I’ve tossed yarrow stalks on a table,
and stared blankly at arcane cards
pretending at small divinations.
Last week I’ve been reading poetrythat survived orally for millennia
before copied slowly onto a page.
I’ve done all these things before,so much so I almost recognize
the footprint’s patterns in the sand.
Each morning repeats itself:I let the dogs out, start coffee, piss,
as if the sun wouldn’t rise otherwise.
Yet, it does, as it will again:so starkly beautiful, so new.
(December 15, 2025)
-
It happens right here
in front of us:
close enough to feel
the blood splatter;
close enough to hear
her lungs wheeze;
close enough to smell
the rusty wet iron.
We shrug and move on.What’s there to do?
But scream,
and point fingers;
then wake up to start
another day in America.
(December 25, 2025)
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