Flying free
through the blind night,
bats,
with their high lyric cries,
justify
the walls around them.
(July 19, 2021)
Category: lit theory
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whose story
your story
my story
some other
someone speakssome listen
some believe
some obey
here the page turnshear the page turn
slow whispers
form a deaf ear
control’s the word’sdarkest destiny
(August 13, 2020)
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I tell a story:
I am a part
as are you
being pulled
apart, each
part one.
The horizon’s shadow
flees before
I write this line,
a demarcation–
this path
versus another,
which word
takes us where?
(November 5, 2019)
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Obstacles
by
as in rain
arms out
head back
laughing
only my voice
in the way
I open to silence
(July 23, 2018)
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seeds of interestembedded withinthe words sprouttendrils in swirlsto push dull earthaside until lightdawns entireto bathe us allinto redemption(October 6, 2016) -
A story’s comfortcomes in retelling.The pattern laid outlike a blue quilt;each square tightlystitched to someoneelse’s contribution,someone’s scraps.It’s taken timeto listen close,to follow a threadfrom knot to knot;until I, too, amwoven whole.(July 9, 2016) -
Past words pirouette off the page,like apparitions at their stations,to reanimate an old thoughtinto a different mind’s age.A pithy phrase or sensuous linecatches the ear in a whisper,slows the thought to a clarioneven this reader might hear.To know what happens, lookat what remained: the tattered book,the cited scrap, one has savedto write through the bookish dark.What drives us to our ageresembles what drove us before:to slip past the smoke and hate,to sway in the dancer’s slightest gait.(July 4, 2014) -
“nothing comes from nothing”William Shakespeare, King Lear, Act 1.1an arrogant yet thoughtlessaesthetic with only elanand a memory for namesto bastion his opinionsagainst irrelevance’smocking laughter(December 7, 2013)
subtext 