and what of that shack now that summer has come and gone and with it the rawkus stellar jay i evicted the first of two times i swung open the crooked door in search of forgotten things with what will … more →
What Turtle Blood Tastes Likejonaslamb wrote 4 months ago: and what of that shack now that summer has come and gone and with it the rawkus stellar jay i evicte … more →
jonaslamb wrote 11 months ago: three feet of wet snow on the roof of the shack I shovel the decks the steps and the roof of my hous … more →
jonaslamb wrote 1 year ago: bleary-eyed father runs down the trail seeking something, perhaps resembling silence inside the croo … more →
jonaslamb wrote 1 year ago: inside disregarded shack full of and haunted by long-ago written poems dust is falling through angle … more →
jonaslamb wrote 1 year ago: Found this piece in the shack yesterday, hadn’t been inside in a few weeks and the paper on wh … more →
jonaslamb wrote 1 year ago: Down there I pointed to the bottom of the trail winding in gentle curves to the left then right then … more →
jonaslamb wrote 2 years ago: At high tide water the color of Finnegan’s eyes nearly covers path to the poet’s shack w … more →
jonaslamb wrote 2 years ago: On the path to the shack lilies and their spikes drip last night’s rain in his ears voices of … more →
jonaslamb wrote 2 years ago: At snow bank’s gravelly foot willow awakens fuzzy buds birdsong characters of dream escaped in … more →
jonaslamb wrote 2 years ago: careful ticking of plastic gears never quite at home in wood and glass shack how ideal this bright s … more →
jonaslamb wrote 2 years ago: I path to the shack now clear of snow brown earth awaits spring greening II sleepy eyed poet sitting … more →
jonaslamb wrote 2 years ago: snowfall speeds up life slows down winter trees take on new white foliage quiet poet grows quieter s … more →
jonaslamb wrote 2 years ago: shackbound poet ink pens frozen and useless outside small windows falling snow fills all space from … more →
jonaslamb wrote 2 years ago: a home for poems a word temple though crooked never built quite right not a reflection of the poems … more →
jonaslamb wrote 2 years ago: A land far from Cold Mountain though much the same in a crooked shack not quite as dark as the kitch … more →
jonaslamb wrote 2 years ago: remembering marc’s elk skull on stick how it was the only marker on the way to his hermit hole … more →
jonaslamb wrote 2 years ago: cold feet cold shack no blankets poems of Han Shan collected for the treasury they are upon the orde … more →