On turning into a rock
What’s past, too far to fathom What’s ahead, enveloped in mist You hang here, on
IRL, or In Real Life
A delivery of embalmed flowers Shimmering delta water at high tide Plastic particulate
SHADOWCASTING
afraid of smoke casting its shadow will the groundhog brave the freezing wind? will it
History, the Stone Guest
Thumping its footsteps of lead history is at your heels it won’t relent
Homage to a Girl Named Agata
Vibrating at the frequency of gold -the Tabernacle where flesh is turned into bread and
Wreaking Dies Irae
Wreaking days of wrath as the world reeks of eyes spent on averting
Looming
What’s crouching invisible on the horizon -a different density – a sphynx
Will we forgive the indiscretions of the body
Will we forgive the indiscretions of the body Its rejection of stillness The granting of
AUGUST DOLDRUMS
Going out with a whimper Paralyzed by the basilisk ‘s stare As the earth revolves
ATOMIC AUGUST
Atomic August, canicular and leonine spraying a dread of scorching heat and unpunished low- pressure
