You can now download digital versions of my poetry book at Kobo.
Category Archives: Poems
The screens shouted and the opportunity beckoned me to remember her gaze.
A search party had been called, the helicopters have been roaring
The roman chronicles are blazing and my love cries.
Oh dumb me, libraries are only good for a shower and a book.
Along the smouldering rice pyres
Within ear shot of dancing mynas
And between the sequential whitewash gravestones
Were ceaseless chalky reminders
Of how far it would be until our travails were ending
Our eight spoked wheels no longer to turn
When we would collapse as if we were asleep
Two lit British soldiers were high upon the wall
Side reflected in the the mirror and the harping was nothing at all
If only they could dance on the bald suit it would be a ball
But the bartender needed to serve a blackberry and decimated the dream.
If you have a desire to part with 4.5 + shipping you can get a copy of “high clues,” my first book of poetry on Amazon. A kindle version will be forthcoming.
thirteen persons postured around a mahagony table bickering, wearing red spotted dresses and blue suits
this was the music that i labored over
as i felt the substance with my fingers
and sculpted the bust from pure white clays
i was startled by some shouting and my knife slipped
but i painstakingly recreated the mangled orb
i knew not how to construct a comb over
so fashioned a funny french hat instead
it was as if a boulder crushed me and rolled down the hill
but i had finished and the bust was displayed in a gallery near the earthroom
several years later vladimir putin saw me at a cocktail party and informed me, “you did a great job with my eyes”
to hack off our arms with his rusted machete and throw them into the latrine
or slip a scorpion under our mosquito net while we are sound asleep
or unscrew the cap to the coffee and in an instant mix it with the bark of dumbcane just in time for morning breakfast
or point out two pairs of macaws soaring bright and high in the overcast jungle sky
The rain was a deafening radio static on our newly erected red plastic cave
(at least the lunch lingering shivering had subsided after being serried under).
We would only see that crimson cover until we reached Las Marias.
The torrent poured so hard and for so long and I shook and shook and lost both of my visions.
forty, two, one, hear the
reverberations of the bass-heavy denominator
a black lined mouse shook it all over screen
all over the back room
eating an apple drawn from static
screaming halloween horses and jack-o-lantern riders
there will be no cigarette smoke, but you can smell a wisp there
Occasionally the triage cases obtain a spot of sanguine, of crimson in the eyes.
When is it good? Per chance is it unhealthy… or maybe it is…
Something that surfaces when the lessons from primitive parents arise and the scoliosis is set straight in the spine.
Bravo, Bravo… Bravo.