Monday, September 30, 2013

[among clouds . . .]


among clouds
of tiger swallowtails
rising like music
a lone dark female. . .
the touch of her wings

GUSTS 18, Fall/Winter 2013

Saturday, September 21, 2013

The Sorry Nickel



still in my veins
the pulse of ancient seas
my kinship
with the lobe-finned fishes
        and with you

the eyes
of the lowland gorilla
cradling
her stillborn infant—
the ache in my womb
            
elephants—
25, 000 a year
dipped in blood
so many ivory icons
of the crucifixion

Ganesha,
remover of obstacles
up on a pedestal
surrounded by coins—
I add a sorry nickel


Atlas Poetica 14, March 2013

Friday, September 13, 2013

[a jar of mustard seed. . . ] and [five percent . . .]


a jar of mustard seed
given me as talisman
of faith . . .
forty years on the shelf
and savorless as dust

A Hundred Gourds 2:2, March 2013


five percent
all we can see
of the cosmos . . .
I release into the unknown
this wraith of prayer

The Bamboo Hut 1: 1, August 2013

Saturday, September 7, 2013

[this torn map. . .]


I dream
I’ve missed the train
you’re on . . .
holding this torn map
to the center of what’s real

A Hundred Gourds 2:2, March 2013