Not quite a morsel or a nugget,
not a hint or a nibble or slice or shred,
not a scrap or a snack or a grain or a crumb,
not even a hunk or a chunk or a taste or …
New Poetry
Testing a Pattern / Replicas / Swim, Swam, Swum
Testing a Pattern
I’ve watched someone who needed air
pitch a loose fist through her own window.
It was the second time I watched her die.
My mouth is a window open.
I hang heavy toile curtains—a scene
of a …
The Blue Sky
The sky is not blue in all places
There are mountains, there are trees
There are no mountains, there are trees
Yet the sky here is higher
The shadows follow me
The outlines around the objects
My imagination of the …
