what giving creature is this

something like a whispered song

mere touch

her meaning is like the texture of the perfect

my mother has escaped love

that love is no mere enthusiasm

savannah

how comes the muse to the latched-upon artist

swing

she wears galaxies of memorabilia

Monday, June 27, 2016

the day after the boy turned 8

those blades of grass are going to brown because we've seen no rain for weeks and the kitten taken too early from her mother stinks from not cleaning herself and the cars on the street rattle over scabs of dirt left by the construction company and the laundry remains un-kept-up in balls and in piles in baskets and on floors and something remains left to be construed in...

Tuesday, June 14, 2016

the girl in my hand

no time to be cold no time to be smiling no time to be burning no time to be tired the girl in my hand is ready  for some conversation that i'm not prepared for i can feel it harbored in her heart a desire to be heard, fully the engine of her cells was born as a mechanism for profound dissertations but we trip that switch as soon as they exit the womb and...

Thursday, June 9, 2016

the king's derby

my son and i built a car from a pine block to enter it into the derby he joined the Scouts like i had at that age and together we crafted a car that looked like a killer a spoiler and a sloping nose it was slick and painted the colors of the flag and i had visions of us - father and son - hoisting our car above our heads in some picayune glory a first son to his father is...