From the 2024 Collection "Sixteen Odes From a Toad's Repose"
From the 2024 Collection "Sixteen Odes From a Toad's Repose" - Sixteen poems written in a five day period after two years hiatus.
Praise those who sit and wait for nothing. Who sit still and know they are owed nothing. On the mat each inhalation
Forget shoplifting, not pushing your cart back to the cart-corral is the true crime. Amazing,
The choir of the saints is heartle… They’ve parried happiness a lifeti… seeking only the old earth, the marsh of the meek— where earnest suffering
Brian and I were driving through… which is another name for Indianap… somewhere in South Broad Ripple, a dicey zone and the neighborhoods… we slowed up through a street line…
I lost my pendant, a dove with a wafer or solar cross… on the back was written 'Sterling’… I searched for hours. I felt silly and embarrassed to
I remember being unmoved at more than one funeral at more than one memorial looking about impatiently impervious to the cries of the cry…
At a certain point in your ordeal, it isn’t your ordeal that bothers… It is the fact that everything is… That’s what really bothers you. Because what happened is not OK,
There is a most worthy woman, the upper steward of the manor, Obermeyer of Holy Terra, house cute, smokestack simmering,
It’s good here decapitate me here this moment perfect astounding unknowing faith in God not necessary
The duration of a miracle is exactly one moment, after that you may as well be talking about what happened in the big game last night.
Think you’re doing something? Thing you’ve got some power? You can walk on coals, swallow poison and live, but who is at the helm
I have this sensation when remembering the poignant noteworthy moments, Lovers, the Dead, crimes—
I gave way to Love and felt some marked change in psyche something difficult to speak about
Tears tears do a walk-by unload the clip don’t know why now
There is a stream of what could have been which flows on with the same rate and newness of what is.