No Answers (85)

As the old world swirls

in laconic siroccos of doubt

flinging sand adroitly

into a warm Mediterranean air

how do I stand still with silence

aware only of this moment’s breath

how do i ignore the nattering pedants

who brandish their wet cliches

like limp wands twined from roses

as petulant proof of their originality

how do i negotiate the spaces

i must traverse without

slagging off chunks of flesh

until the sinews abandon my bones

(October 26, 2020) 

A Dagger Which I See Before

from “Renditions of Change” a work in progress


Tentatively, I stumble down

the hall in the dark. This time,

this is not a dream. I tell

myself I will kill myself

tomorrow. I laugh, as if

I was joking. Then I hear

a draft of a first line,

and hope I can hold it long

enough to write it down

before I drown in a river

of my own clotted blood.

(February 9, 2019)

Cassandra at the Door



To hammer a nail straight

and quick with a few strikes

takes practice— to the point:


I stake myself on a cross,

a basic graph to plot

trends and sequences—


facts and numbers,

numbers and facts,

are so easily turned;


so, perhaps a story here

that can plant the horror

will suffice to save us:


Do you hear that? It is

coming. Martyrs laid

out like drying fish;


where distortions and lies

bend all matter to earth

a fetid stench rises.


In a hell so manifold,

your closest friends

will be devoured.


(June 16, 2018)

Zeitgeist Frog



A deep resonance in waves

flows through my walls

as if they did not exist;

and, I am set atremble

like the wings of a butterfly

on a bit of Queen Anne’s Lace.


Thus fear inculcates the normal

day to day rituals, casually,

like friends meeting for lunch.

I cannot control my shaking.

I have become thin glass

singing in harmony

with the tremulous cacophony;

until I shatter like ice.


(April 29 2018)