Category: Poetry

The trees, now, are trees I’m seeing myself seeing. I’ll always deny that I kissed her. I was just whispering into her mouth -Stephen Dunn/Slant This arrived in the mail yesterday from a certain wonderpoet Rebecca. Thanks again, Dear. Had I not know it was coming it would have been very mysterious indeed. No return…

You could be a poet You just don’t know it

An open ladder of tracks fades into eventual sky. Any other place the sky is just a sky here it is always a horizon beyond gray waters, gray eyes, a soft dripping sound of more, the drip of a faucet. Our hands touch like petals of skin on skin We lift them up on strings…

Blood drops blossom on the bathroom floor. The make-up you’re wearing, the heels, the pants around your ankles – a poet’s morning glow disappears in the mirror. There’s much to do, I beg you. You look with empty bucket eyes, eyes I faintly know. Zip up your pants, wipe the blood from the floor. The…

*Because it’s so cold outside: an oldie* When a yellow jacket lands on the hood of my car “Unstick,” I say and ask Karma for a shot of vodka. She looks at me like I’ve rollers in my hair, laughs and tells me that Spring is a bastard child forget it. Summer has already begun…

The roofs shiver against an alabaster dawn. The steam and the mist, the radiating whispers of a woman rising, heat rising, warming. She plucks crystaled glass like jewels from a box, hangs dew held by the night’s oyster from her lobes like pearls