death
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Plague Songs
The city streets stand empty the long shadows of evening play across the apartment towers here at end of day From the vespers of the elderly to Virgin Mary tenderly the guttering candle wick sees hopes of healing for the sick The fears that still endure from the homes of those who’re sure…
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Call Out to God
How firmly we love the Lord how many sacrifices we make to prove it though internally we scream out to Him externally we pantomime sobriety for polity and stand outside the church door holding large neon signs condemning SIN working as hard as we can to prevent the believer from coming in The end result…
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Day at the Park
We’re prepping the land for the next generation knocking down the brick walls and excavating the basements pulling low-center of gravity concrete chunks out by the roots and dumping soil back into the hole. We’re playing favorites saving the perfect circles and the best perfumes rolling them up into satchels and dropping them off at…
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Intensive Care – A Tragicomedy
The Prime Minister is dying they’re spraying down the door of No. 10 with a mixture of Lysol and bleach they’ve taken all of the dishes from his study and broken them into small pieces to be buried in a cairn somewhere in Wales to be found 1000 years from now by strange, dark little…
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On Ice
Simulate a cold November evening in New York City imagine rolling clouds of icy fog chilling exposed skin and long legs dressed in nylon stockings listen to ship’s horns in the harbor they’re echoing off of art deco fenestrations feel the buffeting from soft vibrations of deep-running subway cars and the honking of taxi cabs…
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The World Alone
The pope walks empty streets He walks like a toddler Wobbly, but dedicated He sees the people that aren’t there He holds them in his head Like a card counter does numbers And hopes to break the bank with his prayers Down alleys he turns to find A church But now the whole world is…
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Age of Plagues and Worse
So you ask yourself, is it all too much? Are we just little meat-sacks running around the surface of a 4 billion year old rock, our lives meaningless? I don’t think so. I think there is so much more for us to know and see. God still rules the visible and the invisible. He sees…
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National Poetry Month: “New Energies”
Chernobyl had its time as a beautiful thing, until its fragile steel and ceramic tile broke under the strain of concussive rebirth. It had its time when the Soviets came rushing in wearing nothing but rubber boots and cotton sheets. It collected souls. It swallowed them whole. It made its own power a new machine…
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National Poetry Month: “Fire”
The Normandie was burning in New York harbor. It was a nebulous sensation the question of fire and the man who watched the cork life vests bloom how fascinating, how pure to see the ignition of plasma and watch its growth from birth to groaning metal collapse into the harbor, the water sprays now floes…
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War to End War
They’re all dead and have become legend the chewing of the mice in the mud and the groaning of the brothers trapped on barbed wires as the bullets screamed into their heads who could believe it happened? Who could believe that the gas volumetrically flowed over white and tired faces their gasmasks loose as…
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Aldrin Waits
The sheets were purity white, blameless. Two hands lying atop the crisp linen folds; gnarled, purple veins, arthritic, with brown spots as numberless as a Dalmatians riding a Fourth of July firetruck. Under eyelids jittering, sunken eyes move in REM motions; emotions, vibrations, oxygen levels, fuel warning indicators, alarms. It’s a tight fit with…
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Old Editions Live
While walking through a bookstore, new or used, I always stop and look for my favorite authors. I idle by their alphabetical presence and run my eyes hungrily over the spines of their books. I am always looking for first editions, or copies of works I do not possess. But sometimes I find a unique…
The Numinous Cosmos 