Category Archives: Poetry

after Dan Brown Tails flare out and flash about Fins aloft are not so soft

After Night Watch, photograph by Jack McLeod The fire lookout belches light like the furnace stoked to consume Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. Say their names. Yes, say them.

after William Carlos Williams i. This is just to saythere will be noplums in the kitchen

With no apologies to Joe Nichols’ “Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off” Poems don’t stomp a country beat To make you tap your booted feet They aren’t equipped with catchy hooks Adorned by cowboys’ flashy looks Repeated ’til your brain-root … Continue reading →

          The world of computers is          governed by the hexadecimal,          where the count of finger          and toes is expressed as 1416.

   It’s very simple dialectics. One through nine,    no maybes, no supposes, no fractions.    Dialectic logic is there’s only love and hate,    you either love somebody or you hate them.          ~The Photojournalist, Apocalypse Now! I think he was thinking of dichotomous

or, Meet Me in St. Diego Ding ding ding rang the dinghyWell, not really the dinghyBut the bell on the dinghy

The carcass of a doe has lain for weeks in a graveled ditch on Twin Lakes road. The lower half is gone but the upper torso rears back its head in rigored anguish.

an Israeli and a Palestinian walk into a bar together