Forget To Be Good
We forget to be good. The sense of it fading Like a cluttered dream. Those engrained ethics coming loose, To drift off in wispy flocks Like a calm morning of cloud. We grip them...
Tagged: new poetry
The End Of All Things Cold
For your review are several things an eye likes to pretend isn’t there the reality with the tattoo that says, “celibate” Rush toward likenesses favored by all the fantasies Aborted before they had time...
The Rite (III/III)
I recall the exodus from Kaoidang: the flight from sprayed bullets into Iron Mountain, the night you hazarded land mines, jungle wild, and the Khmai reds to extract your child from harm. Unfed, barefooted,...
At a Garage in Tallman
Haibun Poem I brought my car in for inspection at Tallman Tire and Auto. A tall, thin man with graying brown hair under a Yankee fitted cap smiles. He was one of Frankie’s...
The Problem Is
The problem is that we’ve let it drift. When you leave Love to the moon-eyed It will always go wrong in the end. The ones with mist about their bones Who let their thoughts...
Diary from an Empire
1/4 rage in Ferguson their hands up they shout don’t shoot our empire bides 2/4 Brown robbed the store a curfew for Ferguson not the empire more by JUN HUA EA
Empty Intimacies
Haibun Poem The towers of the George Washington Bridge straddle the traffic. The constant drone outside our motel room is our own urban surf. Inside, a musty smell from the carpet complements the...
