Poetry

In the tinkling thinking of the wind chimes I hear a song that places me before you again, on my knees, a knave. In the thinking reflection of the window, steamed with my

Consider Aristotle, Emerson, Shakespeare, the dumbbell molecule which cannot turn left, the Sagan Tango forbidden by Pauli’s exclusion principle. Natural law absolute law. A speck of salt, 10 million billion sodium and

The busy thrift store ladies shuffle here and there between the stacks of clothes, folding, talking, slowly creasing pants that smell like cigarettes and skirts; hands inked in blue veins, mottled arms and

They break me They break me Those craggy old men throwing iron balls They break me Those sensual women with the brilliant skirts Those sun-kissed, white-haired boy-children They break me Those bent-backed crones

(Arles, 1888) Long stone slabs, a flight of steps leading from a roughly cobbled street. Then a narrower stairway flanked by thick concrete walls, twenty-six risers to a modern steel bridge, gray stringers