 |
A Poem by Vol
I
think the human race is making up for lost time
when
the only music we ever heard
was
when a rare someone wandered through
with
cat gut..
|
 |
A Poem by Vol
The
thing about that summer
was
the long walks along
the
isolated
country
roads of Wisconsin.
The
everything
green
tinged with blue&he..
|
 |
A Poem by Vol
There was a tiny black speck
on the wall of my
bathroom
sink, “where’d
that come from?”
so I reached down to
scrape
it off wi..
|
 |
A Poem by Vol
At two o’clock this morning
you touched me like the dawn
so we woke to paint the
Sistine Chapel in the style of
Hieronymus Bosch. Ourfull..
|
 |
A Story by Vol
At seventy-five years old, I cannot seem to fit into the mold of
“Senior Citizen.” Mentally, I get it, like the Bard said, “I
have..
|
 |
A Poem by Vol
The
problem is, some sort of
feline
encephalitis.
when
they get it, they die.
It
comes from little nasties
that
used to feed on bobca..
|
 |
A Poem by Vol
In the forest the
sound of a broken
twig
is disconcerting.
On the sidewalks,
on the streets,
in the stadiums,
in the libraries,
..
|
 |
A Poem by Vol
In
Memphis, a long time ago, cold was a new
adventure
of hunting on my uncle’s farm
for
rabbits and squirrel, fried up by Mama
and
s..
|
 |
A Poem by Vol
It’s rained like I can’t
remember
and the Llano Estacado is
green
in a million hues. Even the
steep red
walls of every ravin..
|
 |
A Poem by Vol
I
heard the news today...
George
Harrison expects
to
die, just like all the rest.
My
sweet lord.
I
laid down by the water
and
watched ..
|
|
|