One reason to stop reading

He dares not open the book They’re leaving in an hour and aren’t packed yet He opens the book Poems for a small planet: Contemporary American nature poetry One poem read Another The next has him crying He can’t take this book with him Just as the writer of that last poem cannot take the… Continue reading One reason to stop reading

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Words

One writer in this anthology gave up writing. The others kept going —their names are in book lists. No one knows where the writer got to. The writer may be a suicide; left rotten, forgotten in the woods. Their writing in this anthology does suggest the possibility. Perhaps they just decided that writing such things… Continue reading Words

Obituary to fiction

stories end abruptly with nothing left to read, and later—when no one’s left to read them— each word is widowed to its meaning

Imaginary gravity

On this rock; round this star; through space and time... I pretend to orbit you— another hurtling speck.

Our legacy

Human will etched shallow— lines cut straight across Nature’s undulating waves— indifferent to calculus. Vectors of great desire swept away in minerals.

Don’t go there

Deep in these woods lies a cabin. I am trapped there— a witch holds me prisoner. The rules there are different; things make little sense, but I've learned to read signals, and can navigate danger. Though I wish you would visit, I will not invite you... if you found your way to me I would… Continue reading Don’t go there

Reach

someone reached out to me and all I saw was grasping I reached out to you and all you saw was grasping all these hands reaching out and we only reach back when we’re weak enough to think a pair aren’t grasping or when we’re strong enough to understand we’re all grasping

Gallery visit

Fake ray bans on in the gallery Pomo peasants enjoying old money while we can, coz it's all coming crumbling down The revolution will not be televised That's old technology and wetware upgrades will prove our lives outdated too, but the sky's still blue while it's tumbling while we all come crumbling down

Future now

in a world designed without mosquitoes, windows remain wide open on summer nights, as we file electric through some android’s restless dream

We should have been lovers

You are afraid I will become everything you ever dreamed of, and you can’t leave me, either. I am bound in you. I can’t comprehend why you would do this to us. Sooner or later you will crumble about me and it will be too late— I will have no choice but to fly from… Continue reading We should have been lovers