High overhead, they have always circled:
ravens, vultures, Angels—who knew
what they were? But he always heard
the ravening cry drifting above the edges
of days and dreams. Child and man he knew this.
Still he prowled the savanna, feasting on
his rivals until the savanna was his, and
all the gleaming females in the Continue reading
The nine nine nine poems before this seem to me
like the Dead Sea Scrolls:
fragments of hardly decipherable scratchings
on nested fragments of thought.
Sometimes, I can tune in to the grainy
copies of the original synapse impulses
that formed them; they creak into motion
like images in a flip-book:
jerky stick-figures Continue reading
fluffy
The air in our neighbourhood has been full of falling white puffiness
all day. It has sucked the colour out of the background and my
enthusiasm for shoveling. I know that the frozen tire ruts and ice
chunks still lie under all that smooth, leprous Wonderland, and I
know I will not enjoy the shocks my shovel will deliver to my wrists,
shoulders and spine when it runs into all those little surprises lurking.
I know, I know: it’s a winter Wonderland and all that crap, Continue reading →