Good News!

More of my poems to be published. I have two poems forthcoming in Two Hawks Quarterly.

Three

I arise, move things

around with you 

wolf

ish

grey

sleep

between sheets 

of fog and ether-din

deer 

spiral

fright
ful

when morning collapses 

into noon's ejected star.

The Distance

In the awkward
air a place
to place your eyes.

The Fog

I love the way
you look
out the window

when you
don't know
what to say

(quickly)

coming up
with a sound
to fill the silence.

Adorable

I walk out
the door you
on my mind
the crescent
      moon

Handwritten

I
anticipate
a
letter
as I prepare to leave
this ocean with a hand

full of earth.

How
will I say
I love
you with a rock?

What shape
will the branches take?

Will I leave
the heart-shaped
leaf
of
a poplar,

or will it blow away?

November Sleep

North god suddenly alive

knows the body in shock.

Diana fleshed over the dunes,

the grass on your back stands up.

Flight, tongue, membrane over membrane

the way birds take form in the palm.

One look in the hound's eye

and your hands forever dreaming.

Astral

Wild river
indigo

with your back
turned

to my sun,

quit killing
me

northward.

Point your nose
to Orion

wild chinook.

Come to me and
kiss me.

Rectangles

Leave me
like a toppled grave

stone,

the moment my face
crumbles away.

Cathedral rays

of a star,
cast shadows:

oaks

stand up
like the hyena

of dusk.

Rapt in
your tendrils,

bramble of earthen

       chimera.

Poem

life is a question

there are no answers

does that make me a modernist

post-modernist

post-post-modernist

waiting for the revolution

Questions

*
If the Father is right,
will I not be right

until I'm a father?

Living wrong days
in the rain, long days

beneath black clouds.


*
I remember the day
we first met.

You said yes

and we spent hours
in the snowdrift fields

of Indiana.

You and I bundled
warm in a blanket

of white,

our eyes floating
with the same flake

of snow.

(And for that moment
we were almost omniscient).