The gifts of our nameless age, The junk mail which must be shredded, The stolen hours of flights delayed, And the technological void between our hearts.
Category Archives: Poetry
My Confession
Thinking of the Ligurian Sea Where the romantics go to drown, Somber as the Tuscan sun sets Speaking the ineffable noun My heart a hopeless wanderer Fleeing pregnant ghosts Seeking in parti-colored silks To evade accusing hosts. The fear a promise unrealized, The events trivial and benign, Oppressed beneath the clearest skies, The punishment condign. …
Sonnet
(for Anne, on our 16th wedding anniversary) The words, you say, are easy; numbers – no. And yet your constant true addition makes Multiply our joys. Your love me takes To planes and spheres where never words can go. Though some reckon to grow their purse By calculating reasoned rates of return, If never I …
Poetry?
You call this poetry? she said, Why, a child, I say, a child — Perhaps it sounds better than it looks. Read it. Read it! Aloud and in a voice Speaking of gold and purple banners, Of the soaring falcon above his prey. Dont just use your usual voice, And dont slump your shoulders. No, …
Two Sandwiches
The sandwiches made with love To comfort on this long, strained flight I’ll never eat. The mad rush to get the bags, To stand in line sullen and weary In shoeless feet, pockets empty, And I forget, standing staring nowhere, At the motionless bags before me, The other shuffling lines of security’s counterfeit. I forget, …
Sonnet
(for Anne, on the seventeenth anniversary of our first date) This southern sun cannot eclipse the pale And dark eternal moment under moon When heaven’s vault baptized our dusty trail And future wand’rings, holy and picayune. Though breaking tides have crashed with fearsome power Against the tender union born of love, The lunar pull sustains …
The Journey To The East
Full flight imperils Carry-on. Checked in at gate. Aboard, empty bins. Barry Goldwater Terminal, flatly bright sun. Inside, mild delay Beastly hot gangway Metal tube flies onward to Georgia thunderstorms Indicators show Lavatories are half-full. Dumped? Not dumped? We sit That crap is fixed but Now weather in Atlanta Kicks us all off plane In …
Confession
The most introverted girl in the world, Anorexic, not socialized enough to even aspire to shyness, A thin, frightened teen with a thin, frightened voice, Timidly knocked at our door. In fear she confessed to my roommate That she was trying to study next door, And that the music was just a bit too loud, …
The Approach
The approach to the mystery Is not made by paths of ritual. Though four hundred thousand Have trod this trail before, Their footsteps leave no trace To guide the wary traveler. Instead, Consider the sensation of that small eyelash Or mite of dust, beneath the eyelids As you rub them wearily, even doubting That any …
Sonnet
The honeyed carrots introduced with voice Of patient nutriment distract the frown, Enthrone the smile anew, as if no choice Devolves, returning up without a down. The servants wheel about the little king, Their happy labor to perform each boon, And though their tireless melody makes sing The pampered prince, his courtiers call the tune. …