#AmericanWriters
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Mark the mastodon. The dinosaur, who left dry tokens Of their sojourn here
We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of lonelines… until love leaves its high holy te… and comes into our sight
Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans
Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city
I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived
When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…
I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing
FOR DAVID P—B The eye follows, the land Slips upward, creases down, forms The gentle buttocks of a young Giant. In the nestle,
I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
Some clichty folks don’t know the facts, posin’ and preenin’ and puttin’ on acts, stretchin’ their backs.
We wear the mask that grins and li… It shades our cheeks and hides our… This debt we pay to human guile With torn and bleeding hearts… We smile and mouth the myriad subt…
You drink a bitter draught. I sip the tears your eyes fight to… A cup of lees, of henbane steeped… Your breast is hot, Your anger black and cold,
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since depart… Marked the mastodon, The dinosaur, who left dried token… Of their sojourn here
Pretty women wonder where my secre… I’m not cute or built to suit a fa… But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say,