odd to think of the world without… a frozen corpse in the revolving e… molten lava below cold stars above journeying through the long, wide… unknowing

see them standing in glass houses clutching stones of fear anxiety suits and shoes boots and jeans makeup and hair powdered and perfumed

Early morning mist Loon fishing quiet water Shining wake behind

a great blue heron watches from a mogul of grass as I scavenge a poem from the marsh Tom Peepety calls

we don’t know who he said he was we came from curiosity and stayed for the inhumanity

the sum of the estate: pictures newspaper clippings poems the memories

The taste of winter ice Dug in August from the sawdust Of Conley’s ice house The slap of the screen door On Grammy’s porch

silent universe solitary traveller a perfect union

looking at the world through drops of counterfeit lace on the window pane

(Based on the fact that 95% of household dust is our own skin cel… flakes of me circling in the sunli… bits of you lying on the bureau gather them in a beaker

All I wanted to do was ride my mo… And make out at Spooner’s Point. But when Mary Daley got pregnant Her father threatened me with the… So I married her and went to work

summer is ending following the rolling sun quite without remorse

which of our ancestors did it - traded wings for thumbs burdened us with possessions fed us to the uncompromising earth…

a cookbook is a strange place to find a recipe for the mind but the notes tell me the lemon tr… blooms year ‘round, never stops; while one branch sweetens the air