Verse
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An American Apocalypse
American writers speak the language of the poets, words filled with chronic humor, overlooking indulgence, wearing the veneers of briar pipe wisdom. They smack of blasphemy, and smite both the gods of the Greeks and the Jews. Bathe us in sweet baptismal fires of western ingenuity, raw guts, and get-it-done willpower. Continue reading
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Trains Spot Run
illustration © kaceym Another of my posts that I originally wrote in a style I discovered with Daniel Paul Marshall, a few years ago. I’ve tried it in several styles, one a rambling free verse I called Aurea’s Aubade. I think this version expresses the sentiment much better. *** in a narcoleptic fit of reflection… Continue reading
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Sand Salt and a Copper Sea
Clouds fade in the sky flames rise on hearths, embers glow, leave smoke and residue on stone mantels. Music from ancestral accordions dispatch breath, send circles of blackbirds flying. Time beats the drum. A bass slaps the rhythm. Continue reading
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Broken
The Singularity threatens our neural networks with artificial constructs, creating a perfect Anthropocene storm. Hamlet, poisoned by irony, dies. The curtain drops. Continue reading
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Two Haibun
What I liked was the way the sun, warm on my back, reflected off the shiny rails, shimmering as I tried to match my steps to the awkward spacing of the railroad ties. The crunch of the granite stones under my feet, the heat rising off the rust and gravel between the tracks. It gave… Continue reading
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The Natural Intention of Words
“Fuk-kien!” he said it over. Later she learned that the sound of words could mean entirely different things in other languages. We use the same words, but with different intentions, she thought. Continue reading
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