No yellow bricks to guide Our semi-precious way Littered with the goodluck stones That once served our purpose. But don’t be fooled By the shining of Our semi-precious way; Our luck has run out. No more magic for us On this path of beauty No spells (or curses) No protections from Oz From the suits …
Canary blues
I need to ferret something out I’ve been too mousy of late Wearing a clothespin on my nose To avoid smelling a rat But that’s no way to live Hiding my head full of dreaming Like the ostrich I’m sick of living with weasels Or living as far away from them as possible But I …
Writing against the wall
Writing against the wall Against my will I’m leaning Against the wind They call it writer’s block But I’m not exactly Blocked I’m not winded either Or walled-in Or even out I’m as inspired as ever As I breathe As I dream I am (Poetry gets me high) But the zeitgeist’s higher It’s a wall …
The little fool: a poem followed by a brief reflection
I’m hunkered down under a metal garbage can lid Waiting for my arrow to return to the ground with a thunk The arrow I had just shot straight into the sky With as much force as my little boy muscles could muster And with all my imagination did I picture It climbing climbing …
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The Stranding of the Human Race: The Human / Dolphin Enigma
I have been reading “Voices in the Ocean” where Susan Casey starts out with a story of how a chance encounter with Spinner dolphins (in Hawaii) changed her life for the better when she was deeply depressed and grieving the recent death of her father. She also painstakingly traces the history of commercial exploitation and …
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Epidemic Epistle XI: A COVID-19 crisis diary by TCBH! members
How living under the pandemic has changed me as a writer
I have a friend who had a big dream recently that was full of apocalyptic symbolism. In her dream there were catamounts prowling the city streets. It was very ominous because nobody could be sure where they were going to appear next. They would manifest on a crosswalk and vanish just as they do …
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Just another poem about the Apocalypse
Shoot before you get shot Fly the coop and don’t be late Make a beeline for the finish line Duck the clothesline Speed up at the stop sign First the city went to the dogs And then it went to the cats Great cats prowling the streets Crossed at the crosswalks Merged with shadows on …
Outside
1 I’m tired of periods and Words that end sentences I’m tired of waking up to Days that end in oblivion I’m tired of writing sentences This sentence is out of order I am at a mountain lodge I am the timekeeper The workshop gets started The conference room is filling up with students Papers …
Estate sale
I We pass an estate sale And pull over. In the shade of a few maples 3, 4 and 5-dollar tables The books are 50 cents Spread out on a blanket. We don’t need anything: (We just don’t want to go home yet.) No furniture, vases, bookends Ornate hairpins Trivets, mirrors Lamps, mugs or plates. …
Vertigo / Picking up glass on Monhegan Island
The back of Monhegan rises Over a hundred feet above the sea Like a bit of wild Ireland I am partway down A series of climbable ledges Picking up shards of glass Green and amber and clear splinters Of what’s left of beer bottles That were lobbed from the top of the cliff After the …
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