Three Imagist Poems
Goodbye Distracted by the search for words. Attic Relics The old street A man selling hot pretzels, peanuts from …
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Note to Self:
Do not sit down to write a poem. Take on the burden of understanding. Crave reality for the halo it …
Switched at Birth
“Here I am in the reservation of my mind.” …
Disappearing
– I have to leave every three days. I need cigarettes, decent food, a shower, a drink. Taking eight hours …
In So Many Words
She pulls on white stockings, steps into spongy white shoes. Except for the crest her uniform is white. Not cold or harsh, …
Simplicity
To be simple like a pencil or a clock, a thin pilgrim in a complex world, the tine of a …
The Color and Music
You can hear the click, in the dark, in the heart, in the silence. A note, then another, flows over …
Lovers, Shapes and Space
Space between them She suggests letting time pass, fill the space with seconds, minutes, then let’s see. He …
“The Creation of Eve”
This is what I ask you to imagine: The moment it begins, beneath the object …
Suppressed Desires
We are names among them They are the smallest of roadmaps A tangle of blue highways A knot of vines …
Poetry on the run 