From the category archives:

Paintings

Predessessors at 3 am

August 27, 2010
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It is 3 am and nobody is awake but me and Sylvia Plath. She’s not letting me rest until I pay some debts. I am writing this so I can go back to sleep. Perhaps the most obvious of my artistic ancestors since quitting canvas for 3-D painted wood and poetry is William Blake. He […]

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Confederate Blues

August 23, 2010
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Confederate Blues In Suffolk they say “The prophets baptize their whelps in brackish water” The salt singed stench Rises from swamps Of long tan grasses When we could no longer stand Our own urgent visions We would spin spit, Cursing our unconnected touch We would drink cheap wine By the gray Lynnhaven river And leave […]

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Poem #1 – What The Secret Organ Gave

August 22, 2010
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Poem # 1 (What the secret organ gave) I hear a voice From my skull’s center Vilified in some sudden quake That shakes the third floor Of my narrow life I spin the thin soup Of my days Into sonata skies Woven with soundless cries From a seven year old’s Sparse parched tongue What secret […]

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The Cheap Yellow Chair

August 17, 2010
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My father bought a cheap yellow chair It sat next to nicotine tabletops That allowed him to ride that coffee up And slide that beer down Smoke that ciggy Smoke it round and round Arteries squeeze soft violins And fog drops figs around my ears I am free of the war walkers, red-faced from the […]

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