Le Bateau en état d’ébriété (1870)
– Après Arthur Rimbaud, pace John Thompson As I sluiced wild, homicidal channels, The…
Poetry
Blades
Red tinted wings soaring over whitened wintry steppes Flocks of cardinals murmur…
Autumn
The wind brings cool air and swirling leaves falling gracefully to the ground, covering…
The Pitch
– For Len Gasparini I could have mumbled a poem at you Easily yet the mornings bring a…
To Marshall McLuhan
You were right, dear professor, the great vortex came in time whirling us into the pond…
Language
when my mother died so did our language the one we spoke each day at the kitchen table…
Wasted Talent
“When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a…
On the Trace of a Desire
You were blowing like a light breeze I felt you on my skin like a whirlwind. I brought my…
Soul Mate
The intravenous drips, whispering life back into you with its moist breath. Coaxing you…
The Elderly Woman on the Bus
The elderly woman on the bus sitting beside her husband looks like my grandmother: her…