Escanciador I love to the taste of an apple core Hard and full of seeds like teeth An inconvenient poison of time Hardly digestible Stuck in throats Willing to grow once poured away Properly and with care Gone with the demands of tradition I bubble in silt
Month: March 2018
Pouring – A Poem
Pouring Everyday I am bleeding Awash I travel Like a cloud of snakes A gorgon's head through rivers I may not congeal Upon the floor I lie shallow As deep as footsteps I rush away But every stream comes To a head
All Around an Ocean – A Poem
All Around an Ocean In the sky the tea is burning My mouth flooding with sores and cuts That came from the rims of plastic cups My glasses are on the table I want to grip them and squeeze The world until it all blurs and nothing can be seen anymore I recall a time, … Continue reading All Around an Ocean – A Poem
The Function of the Weird
This moment, which I might have been waiting for my entire life all unknowing - this moment of an encounter with the most beautiful, the most terrible thing I might ever experience - was beyond me. … Continue reading The Function of the Weird
Report from Orion-13: A Story
A Report from Orion-13 With Respects to Ursula K. LeGuin and Stanislaw Lem To begin at the beginning, my arrival on Orion-13 was utterly uneventful. Or, at least, as uneventful as interstellar travel can ever be. To awake on a world apart is no small shock, no matter how many times one may travel by … Continue reading Report from Orion-13: A Story
Compost – A Poem
Compost poetry is dead, a corpse in the field it is fertilizing, in the process of becoming ground for the new where poetry’s eyes once were there is a stir - a broodling of eggs and small moons to hatch into i know not what it is a tongue-biting kind of mystery a virile, pregnant … Continue reading Compost – A Poem
Why I Write Poetry (and how You can do it too…)
They have asked me before, and they will keep asking “Why do you write poetry? Why not novels, or plays, or cookbooks, or something anyone would actually read?" And I’ll say in a blur, “because it’s easy." Which'll make the writers spit and their hairs stand all on-end But the readers will lean in a bit … Continue reading Why I Write Poetry (and how You can do it too…)
Tumbleweed Sea – A Poem
Driving out of Boise I always watched The ditches by the side of the road Where tumbleweeds go to die It was some kind of sea Without water and Trapped in sand Those stuckweeds touch something In me not quite a heart more a seed How must it feel to be rootless And fall into … Continue reading Tumbleweed Sea – A Poem
Pen and Screen 