When Alien Beings Ask “Why Poetry?” I Offer Them This.
Hello and welcome to earth [bow with your hands pressed together near your heart.] [Oh, and if they offer a hand, flipper, tentacle, or anything else to shake, shake it. If they want to hug, hug.] here...
View ArticleOn Marrying a Poet
Chris Toll said The job of poets is not to explain the Mystery. The job of poets is to make the Mystery greater. Terrific, said Daniel, but my question was: where do you want to eat dinner tonight?
View ArticleLoving to Pieces, Autopoiesis
Flash poetry (created and shared online in <10 minutes) inspired by an amazingly prolific and resilient researcher friend. I turned a research abstract into a poem on the fly for him. That’s me...
View ArticleLetting It Be
a flash poem inspired by my new We Shall Dance with Mountains friends… Letting It Be soft paused cat nose to velvet bumblebee nose children down on the beach yelling to one another in self-created...
View ArticleA Poet’s Payment
Need a poem or another gift and you receive one Love a poet and you fall in love with every face within translucence Walk, or drink, with a poet feeling the whole truth of a place complete with hatred,...
View ArticleNursery
internet, off now breathing, noticed ears dancing with rain down eve spouts family, hugged, fed, dispersed to their corners paw, across cat’s face wood floor, brightened with daylight through clouds,...
View ArticleDear Artist,
accept throwing out everything you knew was true each morning starting again from the beginning or well before then uncertainly receiving just one certainty each day some days, mine is a friend or a...
View ArticleRed Pleather Seats
Happy national poetry month! A flash poem a day, every day in April! Red Pleather Seats above the lunch rush crowd a clattering, plates and cups two women sit alone reading in heaven a young boy,...
View ArticleArtist Statement
Poetry isn’t what I was taught in middle school: rules and stilted contained lines written by long-dead rich old white dudes? Bleh. (I am not my friend Knox who makes old white guys so sexy.) Poetry is...
View ArticleThe Invitation (Rewrite Approximately #7? I’ve Lost Count)
When the wind strolls in, my meadow friends dance and bow. When waves rush to crash across my ocean friend, wide beach smiles back at me and the eagles work-resting silent on wind above etch...
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