(2/17/21) Plodding along, I hike To an ethereal song Which pulls me tenuously toward some celestial sky Though, I never arrive. A deep unknown sadness, Mountains of melancholy Collide violently; I am crying. I am crying on the banks of the Sligo. Onward, trudging through mud I continue. ‘Till, perspiring, I sit and strip, and … Continue reading On “Sligo River Blues – Original Recording” by John Fahey
(1/24/21) The rush of a hundred thousandTroops upon the rooftops,Clanging artillery which flashes and booms The city is under attack. Below, cars drive amongst the fraySpraying pellets and shrapnelUpon the sidewalksReturning fire in a fightThat will not last. To another theater soon enoughThe battle will travel, butThe moment is hereThe moment is now, soCount the … Continue reading On Sunday Night Rain Storms
(12/24/20) Slots shade views piercing from reality Buildings both lofty and squatty peer in A wave carried lightly through haze Finds hollow ears to rest in Warmth cottony and clean surrounds From reclining days spent in Reverie, and more haze What a body to live in Wisps of buildings’ tears slide effortlessly Into drainage cemeteries … Continue reading a vacation observed
I would weep to see it – to see the measureless mountains meander my direction, to see them silently shift their weight and will their way out from the West toward me – would that I could see it, see those mountains move. I would weep to see it. Instead this red land lends itself … Continue reading Mountains in OK
The contents of the day are spread across the sky by the setting sun, as the wind pushes me into the bar. The evening crumbles, and my body bleeds into the shape of some wanting thing, a walking wireframe. In between those thin shoulders, near where my heart should be, an image plays of a … Continue reading Bar Thoughts
Tonight I sat On the edge of my seat Watching C-Span The capitol had just been Overrun By thugs and White people who Carried flags that said something like “Jesus is my savior” And “Trump is my president.” Later that night, powerful persons Sat and decided whether to put Antibiotics on The open wound, Still … Continue reading Heavy World, Pt. 3
As I drive down this open highway The wind rushes though the car door window fast as the blood pumping in my veins Every light passing in sync With the beat of my heart And I’m thankful for this day As I drive down this open highway I pass by hotel signs which say Thirty nine ninety … Continue reading Open Highways
The world feels heavy tonight, the weight of America especially. With massive opinions near the center and the edges, America feels heavy tonight. Heavy enough that such weight threatens to break America in two. The broken body of America, soon to be consumed by brutish capitalistic crows and crafty billionaire scavengers while the poor and oppressed are ground … Continue reading Heavy World, Pt 2
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Engineer, Poet, and Appreciator of All Things Worth Savoring.
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