“Big Tent Poetry”
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we pass through the darkening
we pass through the darkening so resistant, so remote white sky, white ground, white paper ice daggers hang from the eves branches sketch indecipherable glyphs across a pale sky thin china cups gather light in their bowls behind glass cabinet doors afloat in deep winter cold days, white days, lengthening days gripping the… Continue reading
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Snapshot Poem 12 January 002011
Snow. Rain. Snow. Ice. It’s cold here. And treacherous. I am contemplating big words. Courage. Compassion. Connection. Backyard birds huddle under the eves. Ice thickens on the face of the pond. Courage: from heart Compassion: to sit with suffering Connection: a circle of friends The streets are a maze of unfortunate collisions. Wreck after… Continue reading
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The Dead Man and Memory
Another Dead Man poem. Here is the prompt: Big Tent Poetry Here is my first effort: The Dead Woman and Sex 1. The Dead Man and Memory The dead man isn’t dead yet, he is remembering. He has made promises he has not kept. He has made vows he has broken. He is… Continue reading
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The Dead Woman and Sex
1. The Dead Woman and Sex The dead woman is thinking about sex. Its renowned generative power, the excitement of being alive. She remembers that orgasm is called the little death. She thinks about anatomy, and how hers is dissipating. She is fucking the universe. She is melting, melting. She is using her… Continue reading
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