I know my better selves exist because sometimes they strike out blindly and sometimes they say, Look what you made me do. If it's not synchrony then it's simultaneity. If it's not instantaneous then it's a process hence carcinogenic. Who was that masked man? How great-American the novel that spans twenty thousand generations! Willows wallowing … Continue reading Alchemy
Category: Poetry
Refraction
As January’s sun, appearing hot through glass, desire is predicated on taking accurate temperature and my mercury is risen. More trees are willows than you might think, my body is catkins, buds, so much has changed since you visited the neighborhood, I’ve built a park I thought you’d like and that you’ve never seen. All … Continue reading Refraction
Mid-Life Pop Quiz
I. Compare & contrast: ● invulnerability ● already broken II. Choose the Right Answer: 1. All life is a death sentence 2. Death does not have wings III. Please respond below. _________________________________ BLANK SPACES ARE BULLETPROOF suffocated shots — SAM ALEC Sam Alec is a mostly unknown artist currently residing in the San Francisco Bay … Continue reading Mid-Life Pop Quiz
At the Bar
I sip scotch neat. —— play chess; laugh at blunders. —— reset the board; make new mistakes. —— exhale. At the next table, four kids drink shots; explode! —— compare accomplishments; grow loud —— make plans to win. I want to say Lao Tzu says: “Time doesn’t matter. —— demons are friends; there is nothing … Continue reading At the Bar
Earth’s Answer — Tomah, WI
The blooming of the floodplain is surreal in its brevity. Red- capped mushrooms are stooge to wind-wavering ferns. On June evenings the riverside is a burnished copper blade. By night the river knits pockets beneath town, and each sleeping mind that passes downstream stops to add a secret. — MILES VARANA Miles Varana’s work has … Continue reading Earth’s Answer — Tomah, WI
Met Death at the River, He Gave Me a Fish
I hurry back to the house I grew up in. Fish blood on my hands. The lamp on the back porch is still burning. The door is open. The hunting beagles are fed and already asleep. And there’s some cold supper on the table waiting for me. I eat it cold too. I ask my … Continue reading Met Death at the River, He Gave Me a Fish
The Enormity of Banjo Strings
Your mouth that opens with The enormity of banjo strings. As much as I despise you And how you have emolliated me In this age of silence being murder I still love you and hear your voice, Standing up straight and listening, Pretending your lips are on mine – Those magnificent lips pinkish-brown And full … Continue reading The Enormity of Banjo Strings
Miracles
I put my body in the loch and knew no more about it afterwards than its temperature. Two swans circled and didn’t care. I carried home the skin of an orange, wet knickers, the noise of goats in the far field the shriek of myself in the water. This false summer is riven with itself: … Continue reading Miracles
Yard Sailing
A pimple-faced teenager is rifling through boxes of books at his neighbor’s yard sale. He looks over his reading list for the upcoming school year. His neighbor, a dangerous sounding woman wearing a winter jacket with a fake fur collar and metallic copper makeup, haggles over the price of an old toaster oven. Momentarily distracted … Continue reading Yard Sailing
The Morning You Die
For Dave There is sun. Three geese fly Close enough to the water’s Surface to be skipped stones. I take to the dock and hop into The skiff, collect the tackle box And rods from yesterday, even find Your Islanders cap that you swore The wind snatched. I look out onto the lake. The sun … Continue reading The Morning You Die