• Mossing the Star

    I’m half okay

    to be almost

    honing a raft

    of seaworthy

    for afterish;

    only for me

    this itty craft.

  • Out Is In

    So many stones

    live at the beach

    like thoughts waiting

    forever to

    be collected,

    diverse and sure,

    glowing and cold.

  • Liminal Earth

    What are mountains

    before we knew

    the tectonics

    we really don’t?

    I prick the sea

    for lore I might

    rudder into.

  • When the Game Is Over I Will Breathe

    Mount Jupiter is lower

    and greener than The Brothers

    or the reaches of Constance,

    relaxing from god.

  • Miscellaneous Summer Tide


    Telamonic scree

    holding up my scattering

    infamy


    to the windlessness,

    as my royalty flickers

    to a porchlight, grey with mosquitos.

  • To the Gathering

    To the gathering

    of wizards

    I bring

    my

    attention,

    and a small

    vocabulary of warm

    oaths to keep primarily

    to

    myself.

    When the pizza

    finally

    arrived,

    we felt like

    passengers

    walking gingerly

    off the head of a long

    anaconda line into

    the Chapel

    itself,

    altogether

    and solitary.

    The most powerful

    elements are

    conspiring

    to

    satisfy.

  • How Else, My Soul?

    A safe needle

    container lies

    open on the

    park bench. Empty

    of its content,

    her last surmise

    glows to a lull.

  • Fishing in a Rill

    Am I afraid

    of anything

    anymore, now

    that the angles

    are all chartreuse,

    and a starling

    lives in my shade?

  • Dilating the Porous

    What a union;

    if we knew how

    to real in calm

    whenever we

    cast off coolness,

    fifty years wouldn’t

    fuddy our spring.

  • Averting Gestalt

    The assertive

    brontosaurus

    kept getting stern

    looks from store clerks

    whenever he

    met the forest

    in their furtive.