#AmericanWriters
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…
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone
Give me your hand Make room for me to lead and follow you beyond this rage of poetry.
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…
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,
The highway is full of big cars going nowhere fast And folks is smoking anything that… Some people wrap their lies around… And you sit wondering
When you come to me, unbidden, Beckoning me To long-ago rooms, Where memories lie. Offering me, as to a child, an att…
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
Soft grey ghosts crawl up my sleev… to peer into my eyes while I within deny their threats and answer them with lies. Mushlike memories perform
I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived
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
Tears The crystal rags Viscous tatters Of a worn-through soul Moans
There are some nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful. And all the wiles that I employ to win
When I think about myself, I almost laugh myself to death, My life has been one great big jok… A dance that’s walked A song that’s spoke,
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