Wilyem Clark > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

I have an epigonic copy Of Winslow Homer's "Snap the Whip," Lovingly, slushily counterfeited By a dilettantish lady, Anonymous, though perhaps she..

The "je ne sais quoi" of it: Birdseed cakes and dark black coffee, Morning sunlight, no agenda, Cafe empty, save the barista . . . Save the barist..

Last June up north, a shortish trip, One more vacation smoke-eclipsed, Resists my stabs at recollection, Rebels against reunification. But look: t..

Pink Himalayan sidewalk salt, The gritty appliance we exalt, Leaves silty streaks of rose and white After a faintly snowy night. Black tellicher..

I am not the august raconteur Who hearthside sits on a parlor chair, Pipe in hand and slippers on feet, Gravely intoning the hero's feat. My prose..

When I stare into you, Slide the endoscope past that tonsillar pass, I see reflections of myself Cavorting with your inalterables, An unholy union..

Because that is my home, Where I know myself best: In the frigid rigidity Of the chiller chest, Down in the lightless And soundless deeps, Insul..

O my poor soles, All bruised and blistered, Sore and smarting, Flaking, fissured, From peeling heels To crowded toes With dagger-nails That cut..

Dual chevrons merge to form One arrowhead; This sign implies a change of direction, A course correction, A heading unheralded, unsuspected, Withh..

The whole wide world has become his prison. He spends days commuting between park benches And nights lightly dozing while wadded up, Grass-padded p..