#AmericanWriters
Izanami gave birth to rocks, trees, rivers… and last, a blazing child so burned she died. In the land of darkness
Washing Kai in the sauna, The kerosene lantern set on a box outside the ground-level window, Lights up the edge of the iron sto… washtub down on the slab
It comes blundering over the Boulders at night, it stays Frightened outside the Range of my campfire I go to meet it at the
Standing at the baggage passing ti… Austin Texas airport—my ride hasn… My former wife is making websites… one son’s seldom seen, the other one and his wife have a…
Owl calls, pollen dust blows Swirl of light strokes writhing knot-tying light paths,
Out there walking round, looking o… a rootstock, a birdcall, a seed th… plucking, digging, snaring, snaggi… barely getting by, no food out there on dusty slopes…
I’m wondering where you are now Married, or mad, or free: Wherever you are you’re likely gla… But memory troubles me. We could’ve had us children,
Siwashing it out once in Siuslaw… I slept under rhododendron All night blossoms fell Shivering on a sheet of cardboar… Feet stuck in my pack
Ah to be alive on a mid-September morn fording a stream barefoot, pants rolled up, holding boots, pack on,
At the last turn in the path “goodbye—” —bending, bowing, (moss and a bit of wild
I first saw it in the sixties, driving a Volkswagen camper with a fierce gay poet and a lovely but dangerous girl with a h… we came down from Canada
All this new stuff goes on top turn it over, turn it over wait and water down from the dark bottom turn it inside out
Every tan rolling meadow will turn… Freeways are clogged all day Academies packed with scholars wri… City people lean and dark This land most real
We finished clearing the last Section of trail by noon, High on the ridge-side Two thousand feet above the creek Reached the pass, went on
One afternoon the last week in Ap… Showing Kai how to throw a hatche… One-half turn and it sticks in a s… He recalls the hatchet-head Without a handle, in the shop