selected past writing at 42opus
What his wife mentioned of his being a tale-teller as well as a musician now occurred to me; and as, you know, I like tales of superstition, I begged to have a specimen of his talent as we went along.
Last week, as you rode your bike home in rain
after cheating with a girl with hair the colors of hell,
you texted you'd been hit by spiritual lightning.
I want to be hit by spiritual lightning!
All evening I stood out on yellowed lawn
chanting in trimeter, holding a matched set of forks.
17 June 2008 | poetry
Not always another chance is coming. Not
if you are lit on fire and keep the sad news
5 June 2006 | poetry
When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide;