Wonderland for small creatures

Posted on Oct 19, 2015 in Photo, Writing

Wonderland for small creatures

Road with no end

Posted on Oct 19, 2015 in Photo, Writing

Road with no end

The builders

Posted on Oct 18, 2015 in Poetry, Writing

Each morning,
I confront the builders
with their brick and mud,
setting up
and plumbing
a soundproof,
recollection-impeding wall
between the heart-shoring running,
this subroutine to that,
and my humble bedchamber.

Call to me

Posted on Oct 18, 2015 in Poetry, Writing

What are you saying
with your bare legs at that angle,
your knees rocking
at intervals that call to me.
Toes pointed starward.
You are music,
an angel—
A siren.

A crow, crowing

Posted on Oct 18, 2015 in Poetry, Writing

There’s a crow, crowing through
my open window,
calling to his mates.
Cars and trucks
in the distance,
the occasional motorbike.
The whole time,
I click away on keys
who know me better
than I even know myself—
some muse I’ve never met,
and yet she tells me every day
which way to think and see
the very things that’ll get me
from point A to B
in this scrawled out story.

It’s early

Posted on Oct 18, 2015 in Poetry, Writing

It’s early and
the neighborhood birds are
just pulling themselves up
by their wings
to begin their song,
having slipped down between
the twigs
and the miscellaneous things
gathered from backyards
around town
and weaved into a home.

A bee man visiting china

Posted on Nov 23, 2014 in Poetry, Writing

A bee man visiting China
talked to his dog back in Maine,
with howls and with tears in his eyes,
Over signals bounced off the moon.
The dog must’ve thought he’d come come,
That he was in the next room.
But the bee man,
He was timezones away
And he cared for the dog
more than all the tea in China;
More than all the millions
she’d stolen away.

Concentration is ended

Posted on Nov 23, 2014 in Poetry, Writing

Concentration has ended
the cart upended,
The wheels came off the bus