What Next

So the sun is shining blindingly but I can sort of see. It’s like looking at Mandela’s moral beauty. The dying leaves are sizzling on the trees In a shirtsleeves summer breeze. But daylight saving is over. And gaveling the courtroom to order with a four-leaf clover Is over. And it’s altogether November. And the… Read More What Next

When I Say I Want to Learn Your Mother’s Recipe, I Mean

Ancient people shaped pots from clay………………………..to make fire a thing to swallow. Want & its answer is prehistoric,………………………..our bodies fevers inherited from the earth — centuries of need………………………..seared out of flesh & given names. In glass lids I’ve watched light………………………..leap to my cheek when you tongued my name & understood………………………..how one mistakes the kind -ling… Read More When I Say I Want to Learn Your Mother’s Recipe, I Mean