On the podium the sternest of tyra… Yet a dead one’s manic puppet, Claiming now inspired compliance. His baton a thrashing rapier, Forcing eyes to see the fire

What discount art inspired this ta… Eleven months a year you’re quite… Too dark and gaunt, we thought, to… By breaking out in garments so biz… But just when nature tries to be a…

System Restore (free verse with incidental rhyme,… Last week, not thinking, I punched a strange computer key and spawned unceasing lunatic para…

Boundaries Tracing writhing streams, circling alpine wastes, tickling out a finger nudged between two behemoths,

Poesy’s Progress My rhymes are gone, at least quite… my lines are stop– ped just anywhere. The meter is, no doubt, unconscion…

Slow cooking is the wisest way: Avoid inclusion of exotics till you know their flavor fits. Ingredients from Eastern lands, are never easy to digest,

Kings once favored beheadings; and when it was their turn, so did angry peasants America chose a different tableau: Black hoods, elaborate nooses

Times there are in dreams and days when you behold a busy horde hastening away,

Verse now slain by latest dogma, down the cobbled street come mourn… trundling Verse’s coffin forward, charging all to note the corpus, garroted for disregarding

Believing garbage cans are scandal… When battered, making us seem decl… My wife delivered firm commands, a… I threw away a garbage can today. And then a thrilling thought occur…

Give Me No Perfect Things Give me no perfect things: a snowflake - kalaidoscopic, machine-cut, different but all alike,

Thoughts on Cloning Someday the labs will make routine The methods used to clone me. But when my own’s an irksome teen I fear I might disown me.

Kings once favored beheadings; and when it was their turn, so did angry peasants America chose a different tableau: Black hoods, elaborate nooses

When it comes to a war or driving… I do both to some stirring ovation… In fights I’m a scuffler and my c… So I’m ready for all provocations… For it’s very well known that test…

I am a horse, a patient, plodding hack harnessed behind a chromed cart — a cart I push when told to go and stop when told to whoa.