Thursday, June 9, 2011

poem of the day

the disgusting night

door opens across the hall

or the window, perhaps, left pushed up an inch
and then the lunatic across the path

and you’re worried about his beagle
the dog too loud for its skin

the flattened is-it-a-squirrel
next to the green lidded bin

mercy a watch running down all etched in glass
and worth half a million

an enormous bear in the childhood yard
by a rock by a stream in a shed

this is uncalled-for i know.

let it end here.

I Don't Pray

I Don't Pray

let me in, let me out

Reading -- March 1