Wednesday, February 13, 2013

And look at that, I wrote another poem... are question marks inappropriate in the middle of poems?


Your new name is Night,
in the grand tradition of
bright constellations.

Or do you flicker
forty million miles off?
constant explosions

so far away that
they tumble on to me as
pale, frozen star beams.

Monday, February 11, 2013

In which I write a poem about the lion wind...

This Sunday

This wind is the offspring of
the four foot snow layered deep
on the playgrounds and tire tracks
between Boston and Portland, Maine.

It growls through thin branches
and sends twigs and dead leaves to
scratch at chilled window panes,
to scrape across wet pavement and
push puddles down the drainage.

It shifts, like a dreaming beast,
against the walls of our Sexton
home, aching for unwelcome entrance.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Transatlantic Project- The Harbinger

Another installment of the Transatlantic Project. For those of you just tuning in, Transatlantic Project is a collaborative podcast by me and Steve. Every couple weeks, we share prompts, explore new (or old) poetry forms and riff off of each other. We record the product and share it with you.

You can listen to my poem, The Harbinger, at podbean, or check out our other poems we've recorded.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

The Living is Easy

The Living is Easy

There are garlic shoots
under our naked arches

we come to this place
to pick the honeyed clover
to revel in a dream summer

our finger laced together
in a child's clasp or a
silver lover's claddagh

but in the waking hour
we shiver under blankets
and our toes trace night

circles against the sheets
our voices are low growls