To Live in the Zombie Apocalypse

The moon will shine for God knows how long. As if it still matters. As if someone is trying to recall a dream. Believe the brain is a cage of light & rage. When it shuts off, something else switches on. There’s no better reason than now to lock the doors, the windows. Turn offContinue reading “To Live in the Zombie Apocalypse”

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You’ve discovered a wellspring, simply allow it to flow and it will fill your world. Don’t try to keep a safe distance so as to see what happens. Don’t wait to be certain before you take a step. What you give, you will receive, although it might sometimes come from the place you least expect.Continue reading

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I Have Not Come Here to Compare Notes But to Sit Together in the Stillness at the Edge of This Wound

Asked if it isn’t weird to be at an awards ceremony with Gregory Peck, Dylan says, “Well, listen, everything’s weird. You tell me something that’s not weird.” He might as well have said “big,” that his songs are a witness to magnitude, that your poems are. And why shouldn’t they be? Look at the epicContinue reading “I Have Not Come Here to Compare Notes But to Sit Together in the Stillness at the Edge of This Wound”

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from “Please Bury Me in This”

Now my neighbor through the wall playing piano, I imagine, with her eyes closed. When she stops playing, she disappears. I am still waiting for the right words to explain myself to you. When there was nothing left to smoke, I drew on my lips with a pen until they were black. Or is thisContinue reading “from “Please Bury Me in This””

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Come out into the world about you, be it either wide or limited. Sympathize, not in thought only, but in action, with all about you. Make yourself known and felt for something that would be loved and missed, in twenty thousand little ways, if you were to die; then your life will be a happyContinue reading

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Song of the Open Road, IV

The earth expanding right hand and left hand, The picture alive, every part in its best light, The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is not wanted, The cheerful voice of the public road, the gay fresh sentiment of the road. O highway I travel, do you say to meContinue reading “Song of the Open Road, IV”

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Lacquer Prints [By Messenger]

One night When there was a clear moon, I sat down To write a poem About maple trees. But the dazzle of moonlight In the ink Blinded me, And I could only write What I remembered. Therefore, on the wrapping of my poem I have inscribed your name. ~ Amy Lowell

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Forests, lakes, and rivers, clouds and winds, stars and flowers, stupendous glaciers and crystal snowflakes – every form of animate or inanimate existence, leaves its impress upon the soul of man. ~ Orison Swett Marden Photo by Jim Maloney | The Metolius River, a tributary of the Deschutes River in Central Oregon https://flic.kr/p/PCTChS

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Lunchtime With Woodwinds

I wish I could write a song to make the world yield to this rushing lapping what starts tonguing what parts any possible other world than this inertia for pink medallion inertia for those skeptics in the building who think of the unknown as hemorrhage—quick stop that thing from surfacing I want to rub alongContinue reading “Lunchtime With Woodwinds”

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Listen to the trees as they sway in the wind. Their leaves are telling secrets. Their bark sings songs of olden days as it grows around the trunks. And their roots give names to all things. Their language has been lost. But not the gestures. ~ Vera Nazarian Photo by Tom Elliott | Sauk County, Wisconsin

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Hot Springs

after Robert Francis’s “Silent Poem” rain storm rock pore flow path earth crust thrust fault drip slope trough dam blue ooze tile floor stained glass sitz bath rust stain sun porch deck chair sky light gas lamp foot bridge leaf twitch dirt trail red oak white tail hoof prints moss stump wood thrush chert flakeContinue reading “Hot Springs”

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What Would Gwendolyn Brooks Do

Dawn oversees percolating coffee and the new wreckage of the world. I stand before my routine reflection, button up my sanity, brush weary strands of hair with pomade and seal cracked lips of distrust with cocoa butter and matte rouge. I ready myself once again for morning and mortify. Stacking poetry and bills in aContinue reading “What Would Gwendolyn Brooks Do”

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You’ve discovered a wellspring, simply allow it to flow and it will fill your world. Don’t try to keep a safe distance so as to see what happens. Don’t wait to be certain before you take a step. What you give, you will receive, although it might sometimes come from the place you least expect.Continue reading

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Letter to the Northern Lights

  The light here on earth keeps us plenty busy: a fire in central Pennsylvania still burns bright since 1962. Whole squads of tiny squid blaze up the coast of Japan before sunrise. Of course you didn’t show when we went searching for you, but we found other lights: firefly, strawberry moon, a tiny catchContinue reading “Letter to the Northern Lights”

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