Pocket Change
“What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow Out of this stony rubbish?” –T.S. Eliot As locust of grief gathers its legs for the pounce and traffic spins in its clotted grave, answer escapes by channel of fog. I am seized by the question’s thrust– turn toward ways you fanned a purse and opened […]
Good Luck
You’ve seen the flicks with the blasted hero, hunkering in the foxhole bleeding into black and white, clenched teeth promising the camera at least he’ll take one of them with him. All of us injured by birth, labor, marriage, vowing to lead somebody else into the ground. Lord, when I’m about to go under, […]
Beyond Barbie
“Both nuns and mothers worship images” –William Butler Yeats Gidgets fidget in small auditoriums, filling their frayed seats to capacity. Something kicks on every lap or inside it as they struggle to take shorthand on the necessity of unstructured developmental activity “commonly referred to be the vulgar as play.” They shush right and left– they’ve […]
Women Singing
You, your all Is in your giving, Your wisdom In the brass veins Of your voice. To touch you Is to shiver In a field of yesterdays With women singing This is how I have loved, Their voices melting In a cauldron Of blacksmith fire. With milk then They give of their children, Their songs […]
Tranquility
Still now, her hand, Ghost white in moonlight, Smooth as alabaster. Silver as angels’ wings, the pharmaceutical foil. Serene, at last, her face Washed clean Of clouds and rain. Dee Rimbaud was born in Glasgow and lived there until he was fourteen. Since then he has lived in many places, but recently returned to the […]
