Carl the mechanic
was the first poet
I ever met—
livin’ at home
takin’ a few classes
at the local CC
I think us younger guys
in the neighborhood
kinda looked up to
She was seven when I was twelve.
She was clever when I was water.
She took baths when I took showers.
She was X when I was the Science Patrol.
Her green Crayola
after Glass Forest installation by Dale Chihuly in collaboration with James
Carpenter, 1971
A glass tree falls in an empty room, perceived
to be a forest of creatable light. No one is there
Like many good curators, Sir Walter Scott was a creative falsifier with a rich
sense of his own license. Many of us know him by reputation rather than by
reading, but The Minstrelsy
While waiting for the coffee to quit its dripping,
I lean stupefied against the door frame,
my body purblind to the sunrise.
During the night (perhaps hoping for the big catch),
a spider