Proud Circus

just for kicks imagine the sun cold asleep beneath a wild oak tree (what do you see?) dawn sits on a set of red stairs prays for serenity, cyclones we’re all saints & cannibals, she seems to say odds of war men: the images are finite, but the thinking is eternal neither born nor dies [...]

This House, Not on a Street

(when looking for explanations) i. this house, not on a street the letters in the mailbox are not mine somewhere, in another house amid tall, quivering rooftops and calligraphy-stained walls the air has turned cold and the moon is asking questions i am a foreigner in a broken land ii. the stones walk among themselves [...]

As Few Painters Do (Nature’s Most Perfect Composition)

these nights kept vigil as few painters do the fantastic delusion of color a yard high, seldom seen through comprehended No—nor can be after the newborn light Nature's Most Perfect Composition nature’s most perfect composition …a garden that colorful old proverb laid away in white For here in all its forms are Spun from the [...]

Eyes of All Mankind

the eyes of all mankind Whether seen or listened for from a mountain top over city sunset battered and sometimes torn still bears the minutes of splendor If you were stranger after another across the Western sky I'm learning that I very much enjoy making poetry out of the stuff of everyday life--cardboard and vintage [...]

Penny Harvests

rising wind, freshened earth, and then…the rains This is the message, too, to restore the weary. at a touch, To make the riches of harvests This simple visual poem happened (somewhat) by accident today, as I was experimenting with cardboard and paper. Perhaps something to try my hand at going forward.

On Collecting Things

When it comes to collecting behavior, I wouldn’t describe myself as a tried-and-true hobbyist. In fact, there isn’t one particular object or category of objects that generally fascinates me for long. And while I might go through phases in which I’m enamored by, say, watches, vintage magazines, or vinyl records, the likelihood that I would [...]

Forest Above, Forest Below

Forest Above, Forest Below, paper collage, 2020 we’re all barefoot in time wandering as if old things really do come back from this, everything follows: the moon becomes ecstatic the sky changes its name (laughing, knowing) will these names and faces ever come again? where fingers brush the metal best of man and seed