#AmericanWriters
We were entwined in red rings Of blood and loneliness before The first snows fell Before muddy rivers seeded clouds Above a virgin forest, and
I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry
A last love, proper in conclusion, should snip the wings forbidding further flight. But I, now,
When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…
Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water
We, this people, on a small and lo… Traveling through casual space Past aloof stars, across the way o… To a destination where all signs t… It is possible and imperative that…
When love is a shimmering curtain Before a door of chance That leads to a world in question Wherein the macabrous dance Of bones that rattle in silence
There is no warning rattle at the… nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer… Safe in the dark prison, I know t… light slides over the fingered work of a toothless
Pretty women wonder where my secre… I’m not cute or built to suit a fa… But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say,
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived
Beloveds, now we know that we know… Without notice, our dear love can… In the instant that Michael is go… Though we are many, each of us is… Only when we confess our confusion…
FOR DAVID P—B The eye follows, the land Slips upward, creases down, forms The gentle buttocks of a young Giant. In the nestle,
We die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing