Tag Archive: poem

Circe in the Night (NAPOWRIMO 2015 #22)

She brought me port; like that of her smell, tilting temptress of tequila, bitter refuge of the lost. One drink to forget, one to remember, and one witch – o helenistic goddess –… Continue reading

An Idiot at Poetry (NAPOWRIMO 2015 #21)

When I die, my epitaph will not read an obscure line from Shelley or a haiku transcribed in syllabicated verse; No — fancy rhythm or rhyme is for no poor man, and my life… Continue reading

Flickering (NAPOWRIMO 2015 #20)

In candle-bursted blindness, I see but silhouettes of men, their slithering shadows bouncing against a beige canopy, creeping extremities grasping and clenching and scratching as the seeping shades of bleak starlessness unpunctuated by the… Continue reading

Lifeless Sentinel (NAPOWRIMO 2015 #19)

lifeless sentinel crushed by the flailing tides refuse to falter until the waves chip off its cemented body to swim with the ocean

Does Coyote (NAPOWRIMO 2015 #18)

Even coyotes pining against cactuses howl: howl against the moon’s pained arrows; against the moon’s silver smirk; against the sweet desert breeze; in poetic wrath I roam the canyons, lone coyote and sand… Continue reading

Green (NAPOWRIMO 2015 #17)

A leaf blows home Swafting in torrents of auburn drafts Pierced through the torns


no monsoon winds can cool my feet to death’s pit or “unseeming” does slight hairs on the hands rise: frozen front tips and frozen from within; though wind is but all that touches… Continue reading

For The Horses That Can’t Race No More (NAPOWRIMO 2015 #15)

The pebbles will still be trod upon, The crowds will still yell and fawn, The papers will still be torn and fly The majestic track will still weave The clouds will still mold… Continue reading

The Laundry Basket (NAPOWRIMO 2015 #14)

The smell of two weeks or more whimpering like a hungry baby lying on its white crib: oh shirts and pants and underwear; each cradling the scent of a night, a Monday, say,… Continue reading

The Butcher, The Baker, and the Candlestick Maker (NAPOWRIMO 2015 #13)

The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker went for a jog one winter morn in the silver woods by the banks, the banks of the river by the bank. and the butcher, the baker,… Continue reading