Day 3: Confession Dare

I ate the Dare cookies. I ate the whole bag. I ate all, at one go. Okay? Say why? No, I can’t. Childhood lack? No, in fact my mother baked shortbread to call angels earthward. Assign it affluenza, then if you insist influence applies. Or reckon it rebellion. Whatever. I confess. I had the best…

Day 2: San Antonio Tlayacapán, In the Pocket

In this pocket weighing in pebble by pebble mountains of consequence my passport in that pocket of expat artifice American dollars translate to big houses high walls with shanties built into their pockets poverty that never knocks at carved doors, iron gates shoulder pushed against shoulder on cobbled streets in the same slight tide as…

Notions 2: Love, as Elemental

of all the gifts given in silence, love proves most mutable perhaps love is water those who ascribe to it fire have to own, love takes air, dizzyingly but say love is earth both clay and vessel made and shattered ground down to powder renewed by water, air and fire and its own sweet irrepressible,…

notions 1: bird song

crows, gulls, and those little guys who fly so fast crank and marfle on about topics well outside boxes, wheelhouses, bailiwicks my languages stake out; they might be talking about territory, it’s the one thing we are sure they do; over my head, some sort of fellow with a voice like a movie sound-effect –…

Frog’s Eye Blues – Spoken Word Duet

As 30/30 2020 draws near, here’s a fun piece from last year’s 30/30 games. While playing 30/30 with Stroll of Poets pals, Ivan Sundal smacked me with the image of a frog’s eye. One thing led to another:

Last Night the Rabbits…

last night the rabbits were dancing down the street, they were seen to be dancing, white in the whiteness of night in december, in amiskwaciy waskahigan   last night, the rabbits were prancing all prosperous, fat and assured with their street smarts, claiming here a lawn, there a park, this bit of boulevard   you may…

Tell Me a Story, with Metropolitan Orchestra!

One of my professional goals is to work with orchestras. Friday, I get my first chance. tellmeastory_poster_v2_final_10-17-19 I’m guesting with Metropolitan Orchestra, performing a poetic piece composed to weave along with Legend #1. What’s my text about? A certain time traveling lapine makes use of the moon in order to visit a composer in Bohemia,…

Late Summer Mustangs

Boulevard elms are golding now, first fogs have lifted Time to return to keyboard and pen. Yesterday, my fab pal Shelley sent me a great poem, and the mustang spirit reared up and inspired a responsorial. Here, for your amusement: How To Love Your Life Begin in the woods. Feel the tree-air cool your limbs…

Do Not Send

Do not send the poets to build your mighty streets for we will follow stream’s meander and bend aside for the cities of ants. Do not send the poets to clean your house for we are apt to pause, enraptured by the fall of dust through light, and sing ‘o, there am i, o there…

Hunger Lounge: from 30/30 2019

in tame, cemented days like these ensconced in automated ease ah, what a gift again to see hunger, lounging in a tree all tawny bright, not quite replete yet not so fraught as seeking meat would make this golden beast ah, what a gift of joy to dream of your, instead of siren’s scream your…

Potato Soul

it’s hard to cook potatoes at a certain time of year, they sag and wrinkle, all eyes, lustful surging outward, turning green if soul is a potato, how to judge? when to cook, when to save who’s greening for the renewal Image from Sewell family  archives, circa 1974, north of Valhalla.