Tag Archives: poetry

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practice

By the time I kissed someone I liked, I was good at it. Pillows, posters of Peter Frampton, record albums with David Cassidy on their covers don’t kiss back, but you can press your lips […]

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the poet

On Sunday, I had breakfast with a poet. A real poet. He didn’t have breakfast with me because he’d had some “Irish soda bread” at home on his horse farm before our late morning meeting. […]

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once more to the attic

For the past couple of years, I’ve been writing what I call the Facebook Poems. I ask, as a status update, for my friends to submit words, and each supplies one until I cut the […]

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words love to be loved

with thanks to David Bowie. and spring.

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fall’s fabric

fall’s fabric the fabric of fall is a narrow gleaming stripbetween bloom and detritus,at once fresh and frayed.autumn is weaver, seamstress, singer.she is the gleeand the lament.birds and squirrels scavenge the yardfor scraps we’ve sewn—swinging […]

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fortune teller

Lest you think I’m playing countless rounds of Bejewelled Blitz and neglecting my writerly duties, I thought I’d make a quick appearance as sort of a placeholder while I wait for inspiration. Recently on Facebook, […]

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crOw

O, a long winterwatching the crowsballet dancerson the wind O, out the windowonly place she goescarried safelyon their wings but they won’t share their secretsshred all the evidencethey won’t grant her wishes O, e minorthe […]

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the chairs

I used to push and pull themwith cheery clang and janglesend them to each otheras violent as a tangoor as gentle as a glissadeand draw the fur of dogs,pull the dust of shedding sunlight,from piles […]

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