#AmericanWriters
Your smile, delicate rumor of peace. Deafening revolutions nestle in th… cleavage of your breasts
She came home running back to the mothering blackness deep in the smothering blackness white tears icicle gold plains of… She came home running
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
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…
We die, Welcoming Bluebeards to our darke… Stranglers to our outstretched nec… Stranglers, who neither care nor care to know that
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
Beloved, In what other lives or lands Have I known your lips Your Hands Your Laughter brave
Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at th… slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing
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
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,
We were entwined in red rings Of blood and loneliness before The first snows fell Before muddy rivers seeded clouds Above a virgin forest, and
One innocent spring your voice meant to me less than tires turning on a distant street. Your name, perhaps spoken,
Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone
I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived