Category Archives: On the process of Writing

The poet doesn’t get it

He comes upon me halfway between dark and light and stirs the stew bringing up tasty morsels potato onion carrot celery and rotten stinking beef I can’t understand the putrefaction; I cook with only the finest roots and rotting stinking … Continue reading

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on the scent

Sometimes, writing a poem is like trying to reconstruct who or what has been in a room by examining the various scents that linger there: her bath soap the dog’s earthy trail zest of bacon and chedder cheese fumes from … Continue reading

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Some idea

words come into my scattered brain like light through a lens my brain mediates and chatters creates worlds and sends living matter that matters more than life and less than light for these words live on when life has gone

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