Silent confusion in the red dust cloud. the rumble of fear grows then takeoff!&Down you go,a little wind-up motor in the birth canal at first lightBlack pants, pain in the neck, torn shoe, Saturday.
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Short Poem No.21
You think you’re paying for it, but I know you aren’t. I’m as close as your notepad, feel the cashier move ? Always the same, up at six, draft at nine-thirty, the little fucker Biff learns manufacturing or it’s ‘stop tinkering’ That dropper draft your thumbtack, dollars and blowtorch
Short Poem No.19
Dripping, she said, and stalactitesor stalagmites, which ones go up?then, near the beach, on a benchcovered in pigeon poo, the green maskswere painless mistakes.Bottle of water, bottle of beer.
Short Poem No.18
Ten thousand monkeys and one key to paradise,they found bones and a toolbeside the water fountainburied in the hip of a mountain the night’s rain had washed awaya faint rainbow in the sun. Beer bottles and a kiss, two deliberate strangersplan a meeting for the man climbing in the window fromthe black metal fire escape … Continue reading Short Poem No.18
Short Poem No.17
Ten thousand now, falling faster, the second you stared, the first time she doubted the Stanton Island Ferry, homeward bound, the sea and a pale white bird. She was not happy. I knowit’s not me, only what I could have grasped if I’d set my mind to humanity instead of this secret mind talk and … Continue reading Short Poem No.17
AMERICAN WINE WRITER 