Monthly Archives: June 2014

Marsh Song

A red wing blackbird
Sitting like a fat Popsicle

On a waving stalk in the marsh
Singing lonely yet hopeful like Dylan for a mate,

For a new love to roll the season over,
Heats up the lunar molecules,

Driving the flywheel
Swinging the Dog star

Overhead on its invisible cylinder,
Passing through the core

Missing everything
And missing nothing.

Landslide Near Darrington

and uncompromising

Scouring down to subsoil
In black elastic tonnage

Pouring a leviathan
through the tight windows

What You Can And Can’t Do

Albert: With God all things are possible!

Son of Albert: I’ve never seen God hit a breaking ball


Calypso music
finds the places
satellites can’t see

With rhinestones and feathers
and the segundo beat
beneath the mambo
filling the holes
left by barracuda

with cunning hips
and thigh-rippled skirts
carnival leaves behind
a burial in the road
for the sad
days of money

Liquidamber Styraciflua

American Sweetgum–
both names

as beautiful
as you are

Deep Light

The light of stars
Left home before breakfast

Hunting the sky barrens
Poling the rivers

In boats made of sparse ice
Where radio waves bleed out

Dying like jelly fish
Waving their big umbrellas

Arriving like music
Unhindered by time

Write Like Hell Won’t Have You

(for Anne Sexton)

Where you are, squatting toads
breath heavy on the furniture
and all the suicides are eating black beans

There, the sea wears a bell in its navel
and gulls kill fish
calling out like three year olds

It’s the same here, except you left something
Apparently it can’t be killed
and hell won’t have it. But I will