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playing with prose poems

I understand now the line I crossed that day, like a cuckoo bird who steals nests to push the other yolks out, I stole a string of words built for..

there is an appetite in warm weather, a desire to speak in just the right syllable, transcending the garrulous, to conjure and coax from the ribs..

I am, I am fullfilling short and long histories. All ties, where knots have confounded fingers, to loosen these white devotion ribbons, they s..

the things I would say if they were not heresies: (sucking out the stains I marked by finger tips, in coils to count seasons, the track of veins u..

i just read somewhere (maybe orion, an old copy, a story I had passed by that Erhlich had written) about the northern hemisphere shedding it's gla..

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In a Neruda sky, you are like a cloud. I remember one afternoon marveling at the colors aground of the green against the sky, the layers of p..

I suspect sometimes I have not lived enough: having the time of my life seemed foolish, so cautious with my vessel, that I must be careful ..

a beginner's mind, already mined of all its small silly Saturday attachments. The expected eggs like eyes, and half a biscuit buttered. The met..