The thing about a poem is,
it has to go somewhere even
if it doesn’t feel that way. Description
Lies Like Raindrops
add up—
puddle pond lake ocean—
until the whole planet drowns in watery lies.
found out
you pulled out a card that was tucked in the edge of a park sign
"is there a god?"
Two Poems
Someday, when I am an old man
I will climb the stairs one last time
To the room where all is kept safe,
In the Open
50s America was on the move, but the family
truck and trailer, now broken down;
Nebraska heat, the sage aroma, wind and sand.
Two Poems
During the brief awkward lull
while the candles smoked
Where Land and Water Meet
large jumbled blocks of concrete
sit piled against erosion.
Two Poems
Outside the city wall in Derry
stands a sculpture of two men
in their prime, thin and muscular.
Plum Wine
Walking on the shore
alone
I drain my cup.
Two Poems
Two Poems
On the eve of a July supermoon
ninety degrees hot
I visualize snow drifting like the spray
To Hug a Tree
The oldest tree in the world lives somewhere
in Utah or Nevada.
Two Poems
These dark-bodied creatures of the air,
born in the water,
remind me of tadpoles
Two Poems
Where can I move
without breaking a branch