Saturday, April 30, 2016

The Crinkled Paper Scrap

When the time comes
I will be swept away.
Swept away.
There is no use
clinging to my old home.
I will be swept
to a new neighborhood
with new facts
and things so new
I will have to grow again.
Soon the new will
become old.
What is now
will not be
a faint memory.

Friday, April 22, 2016

Inside the Tulip: Photoshow

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Four AM

 It is night.
 We are children.
 The playful
 flick of the cat's tail
 decodes her mind.
 I see
 into the intentions
 of the birds.

Saturday, April 16, 2016

Observations Through Alien Eyes #2

Life is a fortress.
When we entered life we agreed
to push all the secrets of death into sleep.
Death contains the secrets
of the true workings of the world,
so much larger than life.
The warm universe
is a small pocket and

time is an artifact that makes brains work.
Why do I want to wander
beyond the fortress walls?
Will I be frightened
by what I see?
What will happen
when the I goes away?
Will there be an ice cold wind?

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

The Street: A Photoshow


Monday, April 11, 2016

Observations through Alien Eyes

The Earth is a fruit,
covered with a
spongy shell,
a level of slime,
a level of hair,
intertangled threads
of three dimensional
danglers and leapers,
fliers moving in
cool emissions
gripped in the black
and star-streaked void.

Monday, April 04, 2016

Common Magicians

When I go out the front door,
all the birds scatter
from a tidal wave of distaste.
We are not alone.
The air is electric,
invisible lines of it
expand in arches and spheres.
Vectors of antipathy
pour out of us.
We are enthralled
in smokey arcs.