Monthly Archives: December 2012


Christmas time–the house
a small boat; window eyes look out
sailors sleep in shifts

Street Music

In our scant hour of freedom,
Noon time office workers wake up.

Wait, a siren song!
A half-remembered, mad melody.

A street corner cellist,
playing Frank Zappa!

Steel Head

Is this fruit or biscuit?
I was rugged,
I was drugged,
I was good blood.
I was a protein, a vein,
Like a lemony demon,
I was no stranger to strange fruit.
Like a finger dipped in ginger,
Like a bound wound,
Like a banquet,
Like a bouquet.


On a summer night in the Wallowas,
A massive porcupine waddles,
Brimming in his ease,
By the stream below my tent.

Unencumbered by sentiments of hurry,
Nose near to where his parents lie,
He pauses and looks at me.

Up armored and solitary,
Dim blueblack and fading he passes,
Unfull of my whirring measels of memory.

The star hungry night stops
it’s descent as he walks by.

Old Time Religion

Give me that old time religion
Where all you have to do
Is say you are S-A-V-E-D
And then think nothing new.