Category Archives: My Poetry

… The fortunate fish escaped from the net knows what it is like to go to heaven. Is life the net? Is that what Buddha meant? Are the holes in the hands the nails nail in not only bleeding, but … Continue reading →

… My hands are numb and yet the sun is bright. It’s early spring when death becomes alive. Crows caw, geese honk and the mallards quack at The pond. The ice is gone but at the back Of the barn … Continue reading →

… You do not tell a snake which way to twist its limb nor cats where they can or can’t walk. And the same holds true for the sonnet, its thoughts are its own. Through me you hear it talk … Continue reading →

… As swallows swoop above the boat begins To move although all of us people here Stay still hearing the horn announce we have Let go. The leaves of the rooted bamboo Bend and sway. Mountains go back and further … Continue reading →

Late June 2009. Opening my hotel door in Inverness, there was Michael Jackson looking up at me from the morning paper. I’d been thinking about breakfast and a boat ride over the deep Loch Ness. In July, back in the … Continue reading →

When I put headphones on it’s like I’m deaf. The world goes by silently on its own Like schools of fish in an aquarium Or New Yorkers who appear to my left My right again almost like trash or leaves … Continue reading →

… … We met by chance in a shadowy place not too far from the sea with enough light that we could look each other in the eye while another bent over your phallus whom you left then abandoned in … Continue reading →

I am not someone who likes to talk on the telephone very much. My idea of a good talk is walking with a friend and talking as you walk. But my friend Curtis was an exception. Partly he lived uptown … Continue reading →

125 When the bats come to Wuhan the night comes Over East Lake wide, dark, flat and in flames On fire at first but the conflagration On the water’s only the reflections Of fiery giant smoke stacks spewing Up sparks. … Continue reading →