the café nearly empty—
scent of burnt brew
our shared morning.
and you turned me on,
talking of Verlaine’s
passion for Rimbaud,
stirring your drink. 56 more words
2 days, 17 hours ago
A Poetic Kind Of Place
WHY YOU LEAVE YOUR NETS AND FOLLOW
(Matthew 4: 12-23)
Because your hope for that kingdom
has teased the edge of your thoughts… 76 more words
4 days, 6 hours ago
No quarter given to you.
Deep-rooted, a miscarry or
somebody’s miscue, trudged out
like a stab wound to the front
of a face, laden with warm sweat. 77 more words
1 week ago
My heart just as we left it
But yellowed a bit.
By the bed.
Like our lethargies,
Rest on a Cherrywood desktop, folded and… 96 more words
I know where Peter Venkman is.
Naked, I tell my little brother in the bath.
He-Men float face down in bubbly waves.
His face is covered in blue ink from my pen. 91 more words
1 week, 3 days ago
It’s a bottom line given:
ten turkeys lit by the sun on a soccer field,
playing games of existence
near an empty two-year college.
I’m not overly aware of existential things, 35 more words
LAMB, WE LONG TO KNOW YOU
(John 1: 29-42)
Rabbi, we wish to learn from you:
tell us, where are you staying?
Our spirits near exhaustion, bent beneath our trophies, 273 more words
1 week, 4 days ago