#AmericanWriters
They went home and told their wive… that never once in all their lives… had they known a girl like me, But... They went home. They said my house was licking cle…
Curtains forcing their will against the wind, children sleep, exchanging dreams with seraphim. The city
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
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
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,
There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win
Funky blues Keen toed shoes High water pants Saddy night dance Red soda water
When love is a shimmering curtain Before a door of chance That leads to a world in question Wherein the macabrous dance Of bones that rattle in silence
Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.
I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived
I’ve got the children to tend The clothes to mend The floor to mop The food to shop Then the chicken to fry
We, this people, on a small and lo… Traveling through casual space Past aloof stars, across the way o… To a destination where all signs t… It is possible and imperative that…
FOR DAVID P—B The eye follows, the land Slips upward, creases down, forms The gentle buttocks of a young Giant. In the nestle,
We die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing