The Fact of Blackness

•January 26, 2013 • Leave a Comment

but I am pretty

sure where ever there is

trash and impossible

organs whistling out

a long digestive howl

; a bend of machines

and now  fabric tied on

a different limb is all

the rage– where a sweet

ugly comes up out of not



“My Stars!,” You Used to Say

•January 18, 2013 • Leave a Comment

It’s been over ten years still sometimes i forget

the shadow passing under the table legs

and the cluster of notebooks is not a cockroach

or monster but a cat.


It’s been more than some years still sometimes i forget

the rattle of the heat turning on and begetting

sharp melodies under the blinds is not your voice

not cat, not a monster

Coffee and Storm

•January 11, 2013 • Leave a Comment


In this storm at least one person died in a house fire (and it’s curious because this storm was in the summer, and just a couple of weeks ago, this place caught on fire–the proprietors and customers are all okay).  Another person died by tree accident.  I know it’s not a mass tragedy.  I know it’s blasphemous in some ways to say so–and I am grateful that we want to remember all those children–but it is hard to deal with knowing that as people sat on pins and needles to know just how old were the kids who got shot … there is a silent, unintentional I’m sure, implication–that our mourning seems to expire at a certain age.  That after a certain age your death is not a tragedy, except perhaps to some few who have gone around wanting to know you and love you.


•January 10, 2013 • Leave a Comment



•January 9, 2013 • Leave a Comment

we end with u-turns

broken glass.  illegal moves

you start with “i need…”