Monthly Archives: September 2016

to write poetry is

to write poetry is to constantly ask am I allowed to do this and to constantly answer yes Advertisements

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every thought is a cloud and even

every thought is a cloud and even the thought that every thought’s a cloud is a cloud and even the thought that the thought that every thought is a cloud is a cloud is a cloud   and even

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one time

one time in the Aegean on vacation i floated above sea grass that waved in in the slow easy rhythm of the surge— synchronized swimmers that needed no practice, perpetual play for nobody but my body suspended and nowhere near … Continue reading

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let the wind

let the wind blow through your mind let stars fall and tumble through your bloodstream let indigo be the color of your love let the crescent moon be more than enough

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smile on

fortune smiles on those who smile on fortune

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God is

not a mountain you climb, but a hole you fall into

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such musing

is vermouth the color of the stars? or are they rendered berry-like by dreaming?

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