Sunday, February 28, 2016


Purple stars heavy
cool scent of poison
Why are they so
Falling over tons
Of perfume cool rain
In sheets blustery
Under eaves buried
Happily in bark mulch
Times when going
Meant only so far

Saturday, February 27, 2016


Tree of Freedom
against transparent
Bohemian Green Earth

pulling all surfaces
slowing Dizzy Bees

wide canoes float by
window open am Neckar
Flowers swirling and sinking

Friday, February 26, 2016

Way Out

I see the place
A little perch
I found

Now don't you

Grace is wordy
More like talk
Down to it

Thursday, February 25, 2016

Digression From The Long Lament

Fatter dream meeting
round the clock
this wild gift
heart an alien star--

big sister talk she's gone
her bottle of magic
glittering small

Now on to my
assignment:  analyze
spoken word

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Work Shop

I'm not sure where I am.
I'm going to go with homeless shelter.
I'm kind of lost and don't know if that's
the reference.  We don't see

the vehicle.  There are things
that are troubling me.  Running
through really nice.  It's

easy to hear the speaker's unique voice.
Is there a relationship?  A situation?
I've only got half a metaphor here.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016


My feet walking
sweet steps away
horses waiting
for the whistle
just the signal
a silent something.

In the grove there's daylight
night's fog hangs there

Monday, February 22, 2016

On And On

You might need      a detective
To help solve      your case
     Seek the perp
file a missing persons
Sort out the evidence
Add up all the digits
Run it by headquarters
Make a phone call
Check a file
Scour the leads
question eye witnesses

that one    
Quite unusual quite curious

Sunday, February 21, 2016

Open Means

Throw away the lock and key
let the black cat through
the sliding glass door


onto the mountain

their far away


in grasses
on the wet prairie

After the party
the best part
is home

discovering the painting
is indeed
the most beautiful

Thursday, February 18, 2016


"something you can tint, turquoise"
"more way out than wink"
--Ken Nordine

Life is not what I thought
All these years missing
The tint the wink

When we moved
My education
In those different places

Could I?
Would they?

Very Air

Dear Eugene,

City of mud puddles
too small

myself looking
on the lookout

local truth
all the
street theater

Wednesday, February 17, 2016


Never thought it would be this mild
                      in Eugene
thought maybe Alaska or Denver
but never about snowdrops pink azaleas
month two of new dreams hopes plans
                      somebody anybody tell
where the turn who turned the wheel
                      to days of Pepsi
get up and go out of the question
narrow choke hold remembering this

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Winter's Real Face

wine de eel 'd farce

fine turning unburied
a deep freeze cadaver

Of longing for death
in life all its gory details

spelled out and underfed
calling to those still under

rubble instead of flowers
flowers instead of hearts

Is this the way it was meant
yearning for cold ice and snow?

Monday, February 15, 2016

O Wheel

The turning, crushing
Madcap spring songs
of course be this way
that's the luck any
Not waiting around

Sunday, February 14, 2016

As Now

never in so much deep water
common float techniques One
Breathing holding the breath
and not mentioning rhythm Two
coordination trusting Time

How to possibly survive salt Three
Last one standing on upturned ship
sinking dipping bodies Crepe lives
washing ashore island On
rocky beaches lapping poetic

is true What is passage?
safe Point to it.

Saturday, February 13, 2016

Mr. War

our eyes
beneath rubble's dust
too-warm planet
bursting hot plastic sizzle

Friday, February 12, 2016

Le Malheur, C'est Que

On to the Painted Hills!
Walk them with gusto

The signs are late
Le grand Malheur!

You've entered the West
Through its front door

Minusing wonder
Plusing extravaganza

Drunk on all the water
Of a feathery oasis

Thursday, February 11, 2016

The Final Four: Hijinks Hoodwinked

Here's the rundown of the lowdown scramble:

Cannonball Run.  Petticoat Junction.

Final count:
One dead.  Many wounded.

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

The Highly Unknowable Town

Things caught fire
ideas only windier.
Our house
was on top of another building
don't ask me how this came to be
a typical arrangement

in those days
hydrants on every block
signs posted

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Staying On

another winter in Shaniko--
the mayor said no problem
unless you're one of those
problem finders, one of a dozen
enduring the Shaniko winter
wind down from The Gorge
sliding up from under the spaces
of the boardwalk at 4th and E
just where it intersects with sage
turning a dogleg past the store
then parking it at the post office
skipping past the old garage.

Monday, February 8, 2016


She said she was lucky
the little ones were away that day
she was one of the little ones.
The white wardrobe went into the shelter,
under the store with all their nice clothes.

Her card was Narrowness, nine crystals
belonging in a cave and not in the open
growing in lavender silence.
The moon is waning she remembers
because the word is like wean
in German, this is its meaning.

Friday, February 5, 2016

Dumb. Smart. Stupid.

They fall, fight, and stumble.
I am afraid to touch his urine-soaked blanket

he says it got wet, he says he'll die
out there
and I look out there.

Losers.  Evicted.  Probate

Nobody cares about the homeless
he says

there is nothing out there
but more 'travelers'
a nice word
on the move
into the hungry shadows
of your own home town.

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Shaniko Winter

I think of Shaiko and the loves I left there.
The frozen sage the wind was my friend.
All the theater seats ripped out-- stored under the eaves
of the once-largest building in all of Oregon
big enough to house my dilemma my indecision
about Shaniko and its location its official position.

Below zero and even somewhere right at--
Shaniko's rusty hinges squeak in the moonlight
all the stars squeaking along in a woolly chorus.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Lake District

Exclusive to some depending
a destination thousands
years ago--the way home
again we visit and wonder
how we got this far.