Archives

(for Bob Kaufman) He was poeting before half the others had paper. He was talking that talk of music and soul and self and the disease called America while walking that walk past the mugger [...]

Fifth Hour I want to flee the elegiac but can’t. Now the asphalt’s ruddy with microscopic scree from the warehouse walls; the Hebrew cemetery’s been vandalized again; even the geese, confused by [...]

From The Life of the Bee After Maeterlinck Virgin daughter of toil whose mysterious duties begin in light now closely huddled in darkness numbed it seems into geometric silence shimmering [...]

Dreams conclude with the crossing of paths — ancestors breathing Visigoth smoke in Celtic fog. I fly past gray-brown pulverized leaves. Bird and elk prints blur through wild grasses. The colorful [...]

1. We are taught to take the bread into our bodies as proof of Jesus’s body. The bread is metaphor. The bread is Jesus transubstantiated. The bread is simply bread. I have taken all three of [...]

Across the backbone of barrier spit toward Goose Island although not that far. Through articulate and wizened arms of live oak that gather lyrics of red-winged blackbirds, cravings of towhees. [...]