We borrowed our shoes from a dinosaur on the hill each foot crashing with indispensable decisions - mammoth & satisfying. Giant houses & wrathful money seem smart in the clammy fists of men until cash tires & desire becomes jaded, slipping to the floor like damp newspaper. Frogs, fat on sugar & the gratis of … Continue reading Shoes of Dinosaurs
Season of immolation guts & bones ribs seared to white sun-glare, heat-dash pebbles’ broken-tooth chatter underfoot, a rolled ferry carcass, & bridges that span simmering air. Water runs, they say to some finish line taking life with it. From rock to rock we mark the passing - rivers as graveyards - such fundamental deaths. Written … Continue reading Water Runs
Aesop hated summer, the rancid thuggery of it. He hated the way the parched earth scooped dust into his eyes, how his rib cage ached with stooping and how the cicadas rubbed gravel in his ears from wake to sleep. He dreamed of something sweeter, something cooler… like the far night sky and the frosty … Continue reading Water
in death we are useful woven in to Earth’s loom we are something then connecting fertile dots and darkness as dreams roll and the living incubate the sky Written for Sarah's Tuesday Poetics dVerse prompt "the four elements"
tectonic love, I know you’re too old to start again you swaddle me in your gauzy scarf those rapscallion clouds spelling sunsets or possibly the daydreams of fire ants nest unravelled one cicada alone is beautiful beaten rainbow wings - (note the azalea swirls like shokunin steel) but we are a carnival roaring against your … Continue reading I Heart Earth
Tourist Without a Dictionary Beneath every mountain is a map flung but unsung by ravensong or the witchcraft of breeze-saying. When we walk, breath coarse as ice flow from this snow-crusted air, I stop on thigh-sore’s pitch and turn to the view. There it is, the sprawl of our city, roof-tumble and tree toss and … Continue reading Twiglet #290
Image by Students at Wangari Maathai International School today in a cave, neck craned we saw fig roots long and plaited their wild search for life cracking limestone in plunging serrations and watch how we dangle our Earth from carbon’s canopy sky we’re leaning over mountains, taking our planet skydiving through time’s twist and drizzle … Continue reading Hunger’s Glare
Captain Morning have you always been? Holding the tiller, prow skewed in among cloud layers Imagine one enormous star baked into sky’s dark bread infinity’s rising yeast and can you hear the breaking? Brittle crack // a toffee eye sheets down, permanent raining Captain Morning skipper of waking your yellow fuzz warms my neck, bids … Continue reading Captain Morning
Bring in the coroner. Let her stand before the court and speak. "Thank you, Your Honour and all the grand, wise jury. Here are my findings: What sinks is not the eye blue and white as granny’s delftware beside the tall vase of fresias: pretty things (our frames and lockets) get preserved for viewing, taken … Continue reading The Last Witness
(hopefully brief) we are all but sharks in the planet’s glowing tides snapping at spilled blood and exhausted by a need to grow teeth some days a deep breath means looking up... missing keystones and folded tower-blades, all in the seven greys of a dead fish, clouds raked into piles and societies bent low, as … Continue reading a failure in optimism
Out of the Cave 