Month: May 2025
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hidden poem
What is the next stage delivered like an April fire like sad notes on warped vinyl violins and seasoned cellos stinging fountain pens pleasantly scratching attempting to discover the face...
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Now I will have to rain
eyes gold in the counted contours of dreaming dismissal pardoned like music shatters the squire of forgotten chivalry now I will have to rain like doors matter in the dark...
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brothers and sisters without masks
congressmen in purple ribbons bankers in excruciating applause doctors with wealth beyond reason troubadours with penny pockets disposed maskers left at the banquet dehumanizers still in indecision God planning a...
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Lifted Mountains
Eloquence does not a poet make Far standing parameters, obsolete from token masters, given in my the transcripts of communication between God and a caved-in mother to an untrusted son,...
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Bruised Ribs and Precarious Employment: Hope Masters
If God is nature running its course. If all and all is God, enacting the parlance of existing tropes and metaphors all intended to get us to listen, then my...
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like chickadees swarming above a grave
Seasons developing like an ostrich in the boil I’d rather not hold cards too close to my chest Or my pockets coil a bruised rib for a loose mouth I...
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Hurrah! the Wealth of the Saints
This I know for certain. All those most fortunate, those deemed worthy to be labeled as saints have only and always been the most privileged and wealthy, the most desired...
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Fountains that depart
fountains that part we had a dial domestic flag luggage good horse loans left on asphalt the seasons dream no map illustrates but a tempted heart displays cameras in septic...
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Untitled #57: father of dry oil
we spoke of father’s distinct promise humble in illusory cow dens for brake matches buried under esoteric tides with fallen curved space like carpet shades of peach and orange willful...
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Leonard Cohen’s Hat is a Tip to a Generation
pearls dripping from the faucet not letting him turn me down there must be release, even small, but steady into the plastured night like an instrument missing its thinking and...