Last Bender

5.22.96 framed by the shirt she cannot kiss back his bad groping taste between them like a bloom of ocean algae with snarling lips his cheeks roar up and down red nails in a fist awkwardly stiff his hands hang on to her shoulders

Equinox the menarche of the dark is upon the edge among the trees who hold their leaves up to the light and curl inward till they redden the sunflowers’ joy of crimson hardens into grey and the seed is pecked till the stalk stands blind the wet belly of the earth squats upon the sky [...]

  Last Night Last night The park was full of bodies I saw a face But it was a rock

Sparkling lads In knickers Southern ladies Drinking liquor

CNN spokesmodel Sitting at Anchor Pours news from the bottle Of Post-Human rancor Her comrade in arms With the silicon stacks Discusses the charms Of cell phones and butt cracks They have rivals at Fox And can never relax During breaks apply Botox And get a Brazilian wax

Farfalla Press blog has posted a YouTube recording of Weldon Kees reading three poems. Weldon Kees has been a favorite poet of mine for years, since Bill Ford, my formalist adversary, introduced me to him. Farfalla has also put me in their links, so I happily reciprocate. http://farfallapress.blogspot.com/ . The other poet I associate with [...]

Baby’s slain Now pray for rain

I try to be holistic in my thinking, but it is impossible not to feel that I have a poet brain and a prose brain. There is a lot of counterpoint between them. When I am writing fiction my own poetry seems alien. I either don’t like it, or don’t know how I wrote it. [...]

put down your fiddles and pick up your guns for the emperor’s clothes are burning

  The Sycamore Tree Not to the sycamore tree grave of republicans or the communist party not to the stones and bricks or these buildings or the tangle of ivy the daffodils or the April rain that brings them, no white in the mirror’s face nor black not to fortune nor to any state no [...]