Poetry
She’s so happy, this girl, she’s sending out sparks like a brush fire, so lit with life her eyes could beam airplanes through fog, so warm with his loving we could blacken our toast on …
Before the final night hits us Let’s examine the spots on the wall: Some resemble plants And others mythological creatures. Hippogryphs, dragons, salamanders. But those that resemble atomic explosions Are the strangest of them all. …
I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journeywork of the stars,And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg of the wren, And the tree-toad is …
Before she came we walked for peace, we picked up trash in parks and won awards. Our troop was number one in candy sales. We cooked for homeless families and served them soup. And then …
Only a man harrowing clods In a slow, silent walk With an old horse that stumbles and nods Half asleep as they stalk. Only thin smoke without flame From the heaps of couch-grass; Yet this …
For Diane Time runs thru my fingers, laughter & feathers against her lips when I bend to kiss her She is my wonder, who sleeps & will not wake for me but with her tongue …
I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic and she said yes I asked her if it was okay to be short and she said it sure is I asked her if I …
I love the way the black ants use their dead. They carry them off like warriors on their steel backs. They spend hours struggling, lifting, dragging (it is not grisly as it would be for …
I look over my shoulder down my arms to where they disappear under water into hands inside pink rubber gloves moiling among dinner dishes. My hands lift a wine glass, holding it by the stem …
Always three in red and six in black; always at least one lined face; always a few on display; usually a headache, and absolutely always a hangover; 2 or 3 God-struck ones. 2 blond kids …
After the name-tag squinting and the quick refills of Chablis, after the introductions, the recognitions — eighteen-year-old faces peering out from behind time’s compromises in the flesh — after the big- bosomed hugs, the handshakes, …
I used to go the two miles with my aunt and a couple of her friends from church when they visited a small town graveyard The ladies would always wear stiff black shoes and I …
What I remember most about Muhammad Ali Are not the fast hands and loose, graceful footwork, Or Manila or Zaire. Or even what came after — The slurred speech, the sad slow shuffle. No, what …