Wednesday, May 16


I keep my pockets hidden
Inside out when they are bidden
Then I hang them on the trees where they hum electric bees

I veil my inventories
Grow them round as morning glories
Then I lacquer them in gloss where they caracole crisscross

I classify my ciphers
Codify all new arrivers
Then I nourish them to death where they shift to shibboleth

Friday, May 11

The Floriographer

Columbine, peach blossom
Mourning bride, crimson polyanthus
Honeyflower, enchanter’s nightshade
Rose of Sharon, ranunculus
Primrose, labernum
Black mulberry tree,

* This poem is written in the language of flowers.

Wednesday, May 9


O, wanderer in violet light!
On living lips the storm ignites
and fast preempts the true attempt
where darkest wings long took to flight.

'Ere edge of dawn limns tangled branch
there ramifies a flame unstanched
and fever weeps 'cross those asleep
who when they wake are quick to blanch.

She--wicked ornithologist--
jet crest protrudes in leaden mist,
and arcane lore the lost abhor
for gruesome ends await the kissed.

Thursday, May 3

An Eye, a Rewind, Next a Word

an eye, a rewind, next a word
we die, don’t mind, it’s all absurd

what one and some can do for us
we shake our souls superfluous

a dart of yellow, here’s hello
from someone strange we fail to know

a turning up of what’s turned down
from some place left a ghostly town

a line so fine as turpentine
from something lost in curly twine

we sanguine sages wrestle thoughts
while gods of mischief twist the knots

we die, don’t mind, it’s all absurd
an eye, a rewind, next a word

Friday, April 27


secret emissary, the claw that scratches the soul
wandering egret, stamping waters in the silence

what moves you now, your plumage newly ruffed
your fulsome eyes aglow in a skull set back by years

evolution evaded, limbs dissipated, a figure built from 
bits of tin, mottled metal of blues and copper

some elegance there, beneath the stretched linens of 
your wings, toothpick bones so breakable

needle dips, punctures the surface, concave bloom of dark
myriad bits of dust reflected in rolling ripples

soft, softer, the raised arm bears the weight of a world
inclined to conquer, but this kingdom is yours, still

Thursday, April 19

Comes the Warning

comes the warning, still the same
the scarlet of a stranger shame
no respite in a fast reprieve;
tease, what hide you up your sleeve?
too feral to make tame

faces tire of this game
the clay-made men, those born of flame
are left in dust and fast to grieve
comes the warning

clarion voice made cold and lame
calls its cry, the curlew came
above in gray his words deceived
decrees what cannot be achieved
swift motion meant to claim
comes the warning

Wednesday, April 18

In Hand I Take Another's

disdain his name the tissue wall
it keeps its distance miles tall
a heart moves like no other’s--
in hand I take another’s

smolder stars beneath the ash
a broken chaos left to crash
this heat, it means to smother--
in hand I take another’s

woke from dazes drugged and dry
scorn the fractured warning cry
we dare to disown brothers--
in hand I take another’s

palm to palm the lines engage
markings breathing once uncaged
rare flutters arouse bother--
in hand I take another's