Homeland raised without parents in different places moved to a city where I had no memory plan of protection through invisibility keep the head down endure the living moved to a city where I had no memory beating heart of ice begins to melt keep the head down seek out a living hearing strangers start […]

This is one of my favorite poems from “Late Model”. 70 Love when I was young my reputation was “that kid is really good” sharp and bold and fleet of foot with a racquet made of wood I used to run onto the court with shoes and shorts and shirt and now I spend some

My Love have you forgotten me in the dust of time grey and wrinkles chill the memory that sparks from deteriorating photos once we laughed naked spooned intimacy at midnight silent human endearment world of past and future light years away distant heart music yearning to touch once again long slow passion with bones that

Winter Morning disconnected mind waking in darkness street shines with oil grit and raindrops churning stomach and drip coffee unmade empty bed vacant of beloved street shines with oil grit and raindrops water patterns on a window at dawn unmade empty bed vacant of beloved a desk a pen and clouded thoughts water patterns on

Afternoon at Cousin Shirley’s sights of Bathurst Ave flew by in the back seat of an unfamiliar car Mac’s Milk and signs of Export A told me I was safe in Toronto silence continued in the back seat once a year was all there was cousin Shirley’s family meet and greet a pinch a kiss

Voting Block the land of no choice whatsoever seven million squatters roam food expensive and life cheap load your rifles aim toward fear seven million squatters roam tainted milk, salmonella honey load your rifles aim toward fear screaming no more old white guys tainted milk, salmonella honey news too painful for my eyes writing “no

Elijah’s Opening The Rabbi held the mic like a south end rapper giving downbeat and rhythm to a community nigun freedom from bondage is our history at the Seder prayers over kiddush cups so all of us commune The Rabbi told the story of the Pharaoh and the plagues marking spring for the people on

Deep Cuts   waiting for the chaos to calm down digital onslaught derails aging analogue lackluster soundtrack plays softly right pace with the wrong timing   digital onslaught derails aging analogue life’s music crackles through studio monitors right pace with the wrong timing new ballads a rarity to open ears   life’s music crackles through

Sailor’s Dirge thick clouds circulate past the farmhouse and the Lutheran preschool spruce and pine guarding one lane highway like green hands lifting burdens no time for pulling Coho from the freshly stocked Snohomish river visiting fortress gates on the road to incarceration Swedish bodhisattva passes electronic locked doors a thousand times over keys to

Wanted to start of with a piece from one of my favorite characters. “Look at the population. Most of the world lives around the coast line. And if they don’t, they want to. What do they do for a vacation? The coast. It’s not because of Disneyland or the studios or the movies stars, it’s