Poetry

4th & Chapel Open house prayer rooms near St. John’s cemetery each one offers a little taste of God’s...

Mouth Is my mouth made of glass shards you use to pierce delicate dreams seep into waking hours: diaphanous...

Sound Travel: Jazz Weekend at Pleasant Hill* A melody climbs out of a sax, takes a piano’s hand, taps...

How Myths Become Last night’s deluge furrowed ruts in our driveway deep enough to bury all our recent crimes....

SPARKLING EYES OF THE TIGER IN THE SEA Sailing along his ocean I realized that the tiger was attacking...

What do we make of this time? Time is illusion – nothing that happens now hasn’t happened before yet...

Crudités The body is ephemeral doesn’t smoke out its potential yet it prevents us from dying more than once...

No Title Black rivets into craveless dichotomy  Lumps scum creepy Fumbles of desperate despair Dark craters past White screams...