After Jennifer S. Cheng 1: the sea captured in a glass 2: a homophone for having enough for leftovers, a synonym for abundance 3: the fish, who have already forgotten you. It’s not personal 4: where memory fails, there’s still imagining 5: you. Not as an ocean but outside 6: glass and/or acrylic
Read Moreeach morning, spangling the loton sidewalks, at crosswalks, across the new campusas if grackle stanchion, as if
where you’re –so– worn out ⠀⠀⠀you won’t mind ⠀⠀⠀being wiped out; ⠀⠀⠀hell, you’ll even thank the tsunami for ⠀⠀⠀flicking you off ⠀⠀⠀the face of this ⠀⠀⠀flaming planet far far away ⠀⠀⠀from that
Flow for Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi On learning of your passingI’m shot back in timeto the discovery of your booksand concepts, to teachingmyself how to enter that alteredstate of concentrationwhere creativityspills into spontaneityand
Scratches in the celluloid / show a frame-rate / his mind shown / in the quick tilt of his head / as he observes a painting / the black-and-white print of his
Ode to Ghosts “There’s always someone younger and hungrier coming down the stairs after you.” – Showgirls To the ghost shepherding a motorcycle into the guard rail at night A ghost pulling
Less the candle-flame and more the light the flame emits across the coffered ceiling. I concede, we may never arrive where we think we are headed. And the storm thrashing, ravaging the
Soon the Solstice June 7, 2021 Today the dawn comes furtively. For once, the sun is not a show-off,prancing through the clouds.
THIS IS NOT A RIDDLE What’s that old joke about the snake that wasn’t a snake? Or was it a pipe?
in a world where silkworms turn in the wind, into mothswith prodigious hunger & no mouths, where you are possible even the most
We spent our state tax refundon an inflatable hot tub, a bottle of peach wineand a couple filets of Alaskan salmon. Also— a bundle of asparagusI picked up at a carport farm