Monthly Archives: April 2019


1. At 6 o’clock in a city tavern On Wednesday evening the autumnal air was frigid When will you light the open-fire I asked the attendant In June, he replied 2. It was $4 a bunch yesterday I say pointing at the $6 chard To the middle-aged shopkeeper I was 18 yesterday, she says. I […]

There is no scene

In which I would rather be wrapped Than this one: 8pm on a Saturday Sitting at my writing-corner Comfortable in a closet of organised mess Leather of the reading-chair cracked in places The cellphone sleeping A pen poised In it I get to think About the evening fog draped In folds from trees Leaves falling […]


Man, Five Points Square New York 1916. Paul STRAND  Exhaustion has its tale to tell Like the gaze beneath the dusty hat In the shadows, staring, unseeing, unknowing Sun slopes down the slum-houses upon a cheek The brown skin, curving mouth, tight jaw Showing up more years than are due — guileless light The afternoon […]


how poetry begins: a soft building fire in the deep interior * * fever-hot night yellow moon the car is rocking romance in summer — don’t bother us we have just been born * * language… shifting skies… by what has this world been burdened and for whom celebrated since her eyes opened * * […]

two poems

is it the right way does it look to be the right way that is what you think about driving in the city does it just feel to be the right way that is what you think about driving in the city it is not too late to turn back you know somebody slips into […]