… Reverberating on my eardrum’s skin you come in like a finger on a guitar string. Sound sends me quivering. Some places hands can’t go. You touch the soul. But I’m not saying hands can’t talk or what is meant … Continue reading

… Reverberating on my eardrum’s skin you come in like a finger on a guitar string. Sound sends me quivering. Some places hands can’t go. You touch the soul. But I’m not saying hands can’t talk or what is meant … Continue reading
… I was in Philadelphia and crossed the bridge to Camden. “I’m satisfied,” I said. “There’s grass growing here and I no longer care what anyone might think of me or what the future holds or when and if comes … Continue reading
… I think that I’m a candle whose flame stays round the wick whether set in one place or carried never wavering an inch from where I’ve always been. I hold out my hand like you did. When I’m happy … Continue reading
… Like all of human kind the rocks along The narrow beach are all somewhat alike Yet each entirely different. We Pick them up, Honey and I, searching for The ones we want, the ones that touch us. They Are … Continue reading
… I’d rather watch fireflies than fireworks pressing against the dark. “They’re vicious beasts,” Dad says: “All they do is have sex and eat their prey by the light they make. There’s the first one now!” I look watching it … Continue reading
… for Janis A bedroom. North Philadelphia. 1972 Ouvrez-moi cette porte où je frappe en pleurant. Open this door where I knock weeping. … I I WILL COME TO YOU WITH A CANDLE BURNING light a stick of incense comb … Continue reading
… on walking through a caterpillar plague They come down the threads they make crawl in a straight line. There is the sound, soft rainlike fall of leaves chewed off. One’s crawling on my arm. Shaken to the ground my … Continue reading
… By way of explanation before you read: Revenge of the Rejected Ones is part of Fucking, a poem I wrote for performance in the 1970s that I pretty much finished in 1976 and continued to perform in both Philadelphia … Continue reading
… In the South Mountain along a road that goes from an ocean to a great lake not far from my parents’ home I walked up to a water snake whose lower end a car had crushed revealing in blood … Continue reading
… On Saturday at Freddy’s Bar, which is a very nice bar by the way, I participated in a poetry reading that was a celebration for a new book of poems by Kryssa Schemmerling, Iris In. The other guest poet … Continue reading
… The last two swallows swoop down over all going toward the barn flying from sight. In ripples of wind out of the west light dies in many clouds and in darkness falls on the pond. Shadows in leaves, the … Continue reading
… V for Janis I’ve smoked a thousand cigarettes and watched you sleep. Your Raphael angel curls Your bee stung lips Dare I touch you where the sun hasn’t? Dare I say wake? There is the smell of pepper in … Continue reading