ODE TO THE CURATOR Wherever you hang paintings,the walls are willing. And every heavy sculpturethe floorboards are eager to hold up. Wherever you put them,all are there to please you. If works of art were lovers,you’d be the one they … Continue reading
The Empty Forest Your reflection is gone.Mine is all that’s leftin these waters. Your voice isn’t here either.The woods are full of bird song,a rustle or two in the brushes,but nothing human. In the house,you’re merely missing. But here,in the … Continue reading
DRAGONFLY You’re expertat skimming thepond’s dank surface. Whatever it isyou feed onI can’t seeso I don’t miss. You squeeze so much colourinto such a small frame. And, so instinctive,your wings beatwithout bothering your brain. THE CONTRACT On an overhead wire,a … Continue reading
Explaining my Silence It is unsaid, this night, tongue crushed,silence crawling out of its holeand into the moonlight, the salt air.I am a history of silence, with you,with anyone of the past, the present,the future. You wait for my commencement,its … Continue reading
Downtown Guy I’m ona half-lit streetwhere feral catschase ratsfrom Norway and a pawnshop windowis hawking stuffI recognise and sirens roarsomewhere off stage and alleys smellof piss and cheap whiskey and I hear voicesbut don’t see faces and the bar’s so … Continue reading
Roll the Film, Gotham The source of nightfinally enters the city.Unwedded to sense,it conjures up a storm.An effort to become wholethrough union with anotheris thwarted by a stab of lightning,a roll of thunder.An imaginary picture in the mindis set aflame.So … Continue reading
Adolescence Despite his friends’ warnings,he fell in love with a red-haired girl.He took his feelings outside in the open,beat up a kid who said she had cooties.And was suspended from high school for his troubles. The red-haired girl is in … Continue reading
Luck I remain ever hopeful.Just looking for a sign that’s all.Doesn’t have to be a booming voice.Or a bright light through the window.It’s not as if disappointmentoverdoes the atmosphere.No deep bass notes on the piano,no owls at the windowor grim … Continue reading
Composting Earth’s been composting for centuries.Ted just hastens it a little.That wire-mesh bin is at the heart of it,five-sides and shiny wire,cut and assembled it himself.Twigs and roots, grass and rotting fruit –he stirs it together like making broth.Sure the … Continue reading
A Man in Neutral I won’t cut my arm just to see myself bleed.Nor will I roam the cemetery trails,as if the dead are the perfect company for the likes of me.Not that I’m about to take up dancing.Not with … Continue reading