selected past writing at 42opus
"Don't look down."
The one in charge was the one who said it, though that changed depending on who brought the best toys. We started with rocks. Then bottles, plates, fly-fishing lures, paper airplanes and doll heads. One day we'd fling ourselves.
All of the crabshacks are burning,
gulls are circling
the open crates of avocados in the snow
even the earth's gravity.
This must be the judgment.
2 November 2008 | poetry
I tell her she's superstitious
she fires back:
"You're a poor excuse for a skeptic."
She believes in miracles…
2 December 2002 | poetry
You're a trigger finger dug into the starting gun,
the smack as it fires, the tense stroke of hooves
pressing into a fresh track. You're the curiosity
of a flashbulb nibbling air, tricky camera lens
grabbing a mane as it quivers back. I'm a rising
overture of thighs. I'm dirt exploding midair…
21 January 2010 | poetry