#AmericanWriters
Shadows on the wall Noises down the hall Life doesn’t frighten me at all Bad dogs barking loud Big ghosts in a cloud
When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the stre… Young men sharp as mustard. See them. Men are always
Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans
Beloveds, now we know that we know… Without notice, our dear love can… In the instant that Michael is go… Though we are many, each of us is… Only when we confess our confusion…
FOR DAVID P—B The eye follows, the land Slips upward, creases down, forms The gentle buttocks of a young Giant. In the nestle,
There is no warning rattle at the… nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer… Safe in the dark prison, I know t… light slides over the fingered work of a toothless
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 last love, proper in conclusion, should snip the wings forbidding further flight. But I, now,
When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…
Her arms semaphore fat triangles, Pudgy hands bunched on layered hip… Where bones idle under years of fa… And lima beans. Her jowls shiver in accusation
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
My man is Black Golden Amber Cha… Warm mouths of Brandy Fine Cautious sunlight on a patterned r… Coughing laughter, rocked on a whi… Graceful turns on woolen stilts S…
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
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
I keep on drying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs,