Slender stalk
and greeny leaf,
a morning brief
in a weary yard
Tag Archives: poetry
Ain’t no empty tombs
Just tipped chairs
bottles and brooms.
It’s closing time
in Gnashville.
My heart rang the servant upstairs
Draw me a bath, please, a hot bath
Words go like water
Where you want or do or don’t.
We’ll be wet yes
but then we won’t
The old horsebit reductive
He says he didn’t know —
presumed what was just over the fence,
and red and green and obvious,
was made to order for teeth
like these
You do and undo me
You loop your will through me
Your face locked
In the pane that shattered
In the puddle sprung
In the running tear
of a windcut dawn
The cheerful reaper
Error’s a bit player now,
but he used to be big,
in the morality plays.
You had Pride then, too,
and Death,
and kids called Patience
and Fear
Chocolate box of the fatalist
Mourning your moaning
Crooning your groaning
Loving your passing
Second-guessing the mist
The soul’s dishevelment
“Why were you hiding?”
No, please thank you, I was not hiding
but biding
time
while the garden grew regardless
Utrecht Journal 