I wake,
and hear
a sound
downstairs;
probably
the cat.
I listen
in the dark,
watching
shadows
shift
across the ceiling.
I don’t get up
to check;
although,
I probably should.
The cat’s asleep
nearby.
(September 21, 2020)
Reality Versus Belief
Category: politics
Surface Tensions
“stop, children, what’s that sound
everybody look what’s going down”
—Stephen Stills
Another day spreads across the sky
as the flood waters continue to rise.
There is little to stand upon now
that does not tip into complicity.
Ice melts along its edges. One moment
we are there watching the turmoil
below our feet, then the ice is gone,
and we are all breathing water,
floundering in the lies we live.
Our words fill our lungs, and
silence gurgles past our lips
as we slip slowly deeper
beneath the cold gelatinous sea,
to drown in our undeserved comforts
(June 8, 2020)
politics of fear
from a work in progress: “process, not a journey” (34)
as i drive to work each day
at eighty miles per hour i slip
between concrete meridians
and rattling White Freight Liners
the eighteen wheelers heave
and pitch in the next lane
like fat cattlemen at an auction
on the radio news of war
and poverty of graft and greed
play out like melodramas
without an easy denouement
the girl remains on the tracks
the train bears down the villian
laughs world without end
among the grass beside the road
my ghosts slowly sing in whispers
this is the time we have become
this is our time to overcome
(March 4, 2020)
Fairy Tale Endings
from an untitled serial poem (2)
tufts of dark fur
scraps of red cloth
broken glasses pools
of wine the remnants
of someone’s meal
are splashed across
the cottage like blood
on a butcher’s apron
she is not here
neither is he
one fled
one’s dead
birds hop and sing
on the window sill
a family of rabbits
nibble grass
along the path
the door lies shattered
on the ground
dry splinters of wood
punctuate the grass
with unvoiced cliches
(January 3, 2020)
The Hope Solstice Brings
Yes, even today—
as dark devours day,
light breaks the night.
(December 11, 2019)
State Mandated Testing
A pile of essays,
formulaic and so dull—
no real data here.
(October 22, 2019)
One Shot
Bourbon’s no answer,
yet, our day begs the question—
Where else could I be?
(October 18, 2019)
Forecast
October begins;
summer still burns the dry air.
We must change our lives.
(October 1, 2019)
Pompeii
Always nearby, Fear hangs back
floating like the hint of smoke
on the horizon. The city lies
in that direction. Home lies
in that direction. We are not
going back again. Still, it comes.
Its tongue insinuates the air; soft
words clot our ears with ice.
This is the time which we live in:
slow lumbering ideas, empty and angry,
tumble through the streets like rocks
tossed by giants from mountain tops.
No one notices the viscous fire
burning the flesh from our bones.
(September 4, 2019)
Beneath an Unrelenting Sun
“knowing less than drugged beasts”
–Ezra Pound, Canto XLVII
As we cower
beneath an array of bullets,
there is no forgiveness
for not knowing
the shades within shades
of evil. Yet, in this land
without shade, neither knowing
nothing, nor how to sail, nor
to have a sea to set forth upon,
even if a boat were here
in this desolate land
of sated men, and drugged beasts:
knowing nothing is cherished
as a privileged pleasure;
and so, I raise my voice
without delay, and sing
as if I could sow with my voice
in the cracked earth
some salvation from the sun.
(August 8, 2019)
