Monday, March 30, 2015

trip tick

Reading A Road Map At Night

Road maps fill the glove box
Leaving little room for gloves
Eddies of watery map light pool
Shadows glove my legs
In the well below the dash
A luminous hand descends
The black rake of windshield
Finger skates a back fold pond
Ghosts a trace dissolving
Into glove black night.

Thursday, March 26, 2015


The Best Part of This Ride

is not the yellow lights
veering like starlings or
the smear of midway neon
neither is it the sweet
billow of deep fried
elephant ears or the lewd
bend of the corn dog
in the hand of the operator

centrifugal force
pinning us in a blue skylark
pulling you tight to me
your upturned cheek
is the best part
waving at strangers
stuck at the top of the Ferris wheel
every time we come around.

Friday, March 20, 2015


Birds of Prey

All the information I need
today just flew by the upstairs window
where I sit gazing north through
mullions not really mullions
a quintet of brachial trees
bare against Utrecht blue sky
Arvy’s sycamore buttered
with morning sun
sparrows ducking
in and out of the attic
next door under the baleful
eye of the dog
lazing on the rug beside me
under the west facing window
oblivious to a mating
pair of hawks at ten o’clock
already hard at it
while I while morning away
maybe a little bit guilty
about my lack of talons
the hapless chipmunk caught
out in the open
a nasty bit of business
worth avoiding
for someone so ill suited
to the work of birds of prey.