“And I will strangle that blue star”He was saying“What is he going on about, now?” We all thoughtHis hands reaching for the sky“I will pull it down and strangle the life out of It”He was saying in a strange distant voice“And why would you be doing that?” We asked confused“It never came to help me…

We waited by the Banks of the Deep CanalWaiting for the Submarine That would save us allIt was then thatThousands of DucksOf all types came from nowhere and alighted on the Water on either end of the narrow ChannelAfter a few noisy minutes They all took to the sky In a Magnificent MurmurationWe all knew…

From a text (a note to help the prosaic wonderer):“No worries part of the buried joke (actually making fun of Joyce ) LOL Here’s the background: The prostitute Nora Barnacle masturbated the young James Joyce under a bridge, she became his muse. It was their first date, and Nora thought it a way of keeping…

(across the mire) Out the orifice it spews Chunky Full of the undigested The putrid odor It brings forthEnvy for the deadWaiting for a golden sleepThere is nothing left But to eschew these mechanisms these repulsionsand embrace the tide of timeEngaged in listening to the wonderful majesty of the bog as it digests this refuseslowly…

That clear sharp metallic sound It cuts up from the dream world A murmuration of dark birdsStartled they bolt for the sky like a protozoan shadowsFrom beneath the arched bridge The cold bright sun of winter Pours overBarren trees wrapped in the mist of sleepthe shroud of night liftedDressing Roughly pulled from an unhealed wound…

The Light that shines from the beginning of timeyour name is unspokenas above so below your love and compassion waits for usWe treasure the nourishment as we strive to remain honest and trueforgiving and inclusive Let us keep within our sphereand have patience for those who ,often ourselves, selfish and self absorbed , Disturb our…

Electrons do not have ears to listen As proteins wrap around Each other In the sacredObscenity of lifeCarbon chains Enslave the mere Immortal nature of hissing atomsIn the folly and spasms that somehow enshroud these moments of rapture, of sorrow and doubta folly that ends Inevitably In deathThe sunset glints across a beautiful unceasing horizon…

Do they have pianos in eternity?I wonder if my fingers will find the keys,ghosting melodies into endless air.Above, the cephalopods twist.Heaven’s creatures curl their slick embrace,tender and obscene,around the unguarded essence of angels,who arrive mute, shivering,their first thought always the same:“This is not the light I imagined.”Here, at the cliff’s edge, I linger.The weight of…

In that final call,Something in his voice— a shadow, fractured, trembling,something wrong beneath the words,the weight of silence thickening.I should have stitched some comfort,threaded solace through the line.His despair, a dark seep,unwelcome guest in my hours,a stain I carried,though I turned from it.And then, days after—the news fell,a stone into still water,rings of should have,rippled…

Hair growsLike an ugly flowerand thenIt doesn’t grow like a comment on reality and thenyou die November 6, 2024 SGL Brunswick, ME