Rain like a bastard. Always big weather round here, more than our share. Don’t need radar animations or a weather app: just stick your head out the window, clouds all day escarpment gone and here in this last sunshine all it takes is… Continue reading
a bird exists inside this five-foot box
made for beak and wing, Continue reading
Dear WordPress readers,
I’m sorry this poem only works on my site. Come visit or read the PDF here.
(a reply to William Carlos Williams’ This is just to say)
got your note
(juice-stained). Continue reading
The land is a book waiting to be read
but if it’s not read is it still a book, Continue reading
I don’t know if they are artists’ pallets,
or horses’ hooves
it used to matter, but it doesn’t now.
They grew slowly, in dark arcs
and could support a book.
Their lips are white and moist
But speak another language. Continue reading
(trying to explain Maurice Blanchot to myself, twice!)
In the everyday use of poetry, words carry ideas.