Subsequent to a clash of bumpers a rag is reinvented as an instrument to arrest the loss of scarlet.   That’s not all.   Under the wheel of stars we are pressured into life then into fabrics the shape

whose shadow is the size of a toothpick at 1 pm on a Tuesday, stands hatless on voting day. Presidential as it were. He scratches his head in misery as the sun pops blisters atop his scalp and corns

Past live chickens in crates  on 148th street children play  at Martin Luther King Playground. I dream of swings becoming doves         they      will      fly   Stray cats hang out  underneath jungle

Getting on wise old man …. normally attired in formal wear Balance act in age, progressively splendid null – mind, that innate watchman wakes in vain, not having much insight. Like, monocle looking, would be wise – beyond that

after a famous classical piece of the same number by Franz Schubert   I   On a Sunday afternoon when your name stood congruent to my age, you hitched yourself to my house, sauntered up from the corner of

Resting in lucent waters, two ships with wrenched rigging  and ropes frayed churn in paint. Between the sterns  of the Resolution and Discovery, Maunakea rises  from Kealakekeua Bay. Thin oiled Union Jacks flap.   The bows point to broad

The buzz of  two insects entangled on the patio  their thoraxes flailing their wings flapping draws my eyes in the late afternoon as I sitting alone notice the fury of their passion either fornication or a fight unto death

something stylish today: a scarf  on the world, and a jacket. life like a seal between boats at the howth head peninsula. on certain days dublin  comes suddenly quiet, with the sense of a cigarette  end left by shells