Category: Original

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #75

justice sits in the tennis court / tennis a sport of reciprocity /returning a salvo barrage / the broad side of a warship /sent into a murky water / one drop of ink dilutes / the hazy milk of memory / a fog lifted to be worn / cloaked in the night I leave / […]

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #74

I am at the weigh-in / the men carry my pound of flesh / hungjury sitting in the rafters / eyeslike pigeons / their faces like pigeons / the going rate for excision is silence / the cost of living is silence / the last hot-blooded rebel had his arms pulled off at the hinges […]

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #17

No mercy for the zealots, no mercy for those with their eyes shut and their hands over their ears rocking in their chairs over and over, no mercy for those who pray but do not practice, no mercy for false lovers and those who decide based on convenience, no mercy for those who engage in […]

FREEWRITING EXERCISE #1

I am writing this poem without having seen the end of it, without thinking of what can emerge from this process or not, much like hatching an egg, a child in the incubator of the womb, because all creation is birth and all death is anti-birth; I am a schemer in a room of humans, […]

MEDITATION FROM PEOPLE WATCHING IN LONDON

It is a miracle for people to love each other, in spite of the fact that people are people. We are so minute and small in this ocean of want. How we part like clouds nobody watches.Is there beauty in what’s unknown?I’m sitting at a cafe, alone, watching filled-out city buses run to death. Heads […]

SELF PORTRAIT AS OWN BIRTH

If two sameselves make a paradox, then so is my birth;one roll of the die with infinite sides.I oscillate between possibilitieslike a speck of dustcaught in vision. A child of coincidence, one branch of Yggdrasil, born to yearn for fruit. I’d like to reconfirm my own existence, ensure that I was some other unknown in […]

TIME

Time lies, useless as a swordin the lake. For one, there’s time,and then, there is passage, as income, squeeze the cheeks of this little tragedy. Who will offerthe world their breast? I’m sat, couched deep in tomorrow,hands on the pulse. Tomorrow I willflip onto the pavement and pound itInto confession. Tomorrow I will flip on […]