We steer by looking back.
Tag Archives: poetry
What we weave
at the station
with our swerving,
intersecting lines
It
It will be over
before you know it
Agua caliente, or she’s gone global
Ice
water
steam
Hot damn!
Trusted rusted busted
Crux of the problem:
your so-so soteriology
The Poet Cloaks the Dagger
Did he say what I think he said?
My Love the Land of Milk and Honey
Powdered pale, her dusted freckles
She’s at her best in the slanting light
Long Green
Too long
Don’t even try
Yellow
Arrowhead God
Wedging His way
into our world
The cross pictured above, by the artist Filip Moroder-Doss, adorns the foremost wall of the Sacramentskerk in Nijmegen. My workday begins in prayer before it. For an extended meditation, see “Cross Purposes” in the May 3, 2013, Commonweal.
The Pass Is Closed
Even all the police
can do
is bear the weight
of flakes
SIX STRATEGIES OF DEEP SLEEP
Or were they sick tragedies,
holing up in your
blue-blown, shell-shocked
shanty?
