The park Calls out to me to be remembered, to not be forgotten I forget a lot of things The smell of coffee in the morning The toast in…
We wish we could swallow words. They could fit into a spoon that we could mix into our cereal, so it would float down just a little smoother. Sometimes I…
painting by Willem de Kooning, Pink Angels Hair gleaming against her neck she sits poised with strength it flows out from her right shoulder rides down the curves of her…
but if a living dance upon dead minds why,it is love;but at the earliest spear of sun perfectly should disappear moon’s utmost magic,or stones speak or one name control…
As the rain comes down sunflowers put their heads together. by Abbas Kiarostami As the sun comes in books put their binds together on my table — JL
Your words sway back and forth creaking on my porch It seems they want to stay in one place But they rock back and forth I sit patiently on your…
Each place has a rhythm and this rhythm travels through diagonally up the streets whispers in my ear down my neck like its own band we travel and hear the…
touch my skin the warm air soft and light the crowd howls keeping a beat for the band the creativity in the unorderliness is valued here breathing from the bus drivers…
Where Do these pieces come together For him the taxi cab drove me home today he waits for his girlfriend from the north an Americana who loves him he says…
The roads wind and wind as the bus curves to one side and then another They say that only 30 years ago buses could not travel to this small town…
Lights in the Hand 