Category: Poetry

  1969 Which is the epic moment?  Billowing-off or craft’s fly-fall to surface, huffing flames and dust, all those one -eyed creatures in enormous skins fu...

To the cheatgrass, that grows & dries fast, & fuels wildfire. Scent of sun-baked pinecones To the ferns coming after a burn, who love the stripped, mine...

Go ahead, fall in love with the sky. Don’t allow your so-called intimacy disorder to limit you. Think tall, tall is a verb. Defy, risk everything, be that rare ...

With gusts of wind through lace curtains and white bed sheets, love me with water, endless spring rain, love me with chocolate and champagne, fill bathtubs, tun...

Soon we will have our gaudy night and let day make what it will of the havoc. We’ll out-love our past, be extravagant in forgiveness and let the pain of loss an...

When I wish to know what it is to be wild I come to the mountains— Canadian Rockies at 30 below— and sit at the window watching the low sun’s arc, the tumbling ...

                                      For my mother, Audrey Curley   Speaking little to no Spanish I enter the graveyard of dreams where my mother sho...

I think to feel better. I need no Time to prepare. Lying here On the floor, the problem is Never enough, too many Inches and eons. The program Loads while the h...

  Anything but melodic, from the trees They cacophone in Australian, making me Want to pin them down, to name Their othering. They sound more Annoyed than ...

Pacemaker, beta blocker, titanium knee. We’re kept in comfort at great expense. Remember yesterday when we were free? Now appointments fill our week. Always loo...