Aurally

Never--

Hardly had he said it
When the wind said it

Again.


(First published in Poetry Salzburg Review #11,Spring 2007

Variations on a Theme by Williams

"There are lots of things we have to go and find out.
We have to go and find out, what red, what wheel
and barrow are, at some level." -- Paul Muldoon
 
perhaps this is why

so much depends
upon

the glazed over rimed
blue

eyes of the stricken
farmer in the muck

beside the dazed 
white chickens,

the frozen up-
ended

wheel of the red
barrow, the fouled

mind gone plowing
somewhere down

in the lowermost reaches
of ground zero.

Form Is Nothing More Than an Extension of Content

Of the mind,

Of the spineless forms
That wend their way through

The spiny needles
Of the mind.

.

Of the pine,

And the mindless
Wind that penetrates

The spine.

Crepuscular

It sounds like that
Repulsive, creepy-crawly

Feeling's overtaken you again--
A caterpillar's treading, flexing

Its luminous pulsating muscles
On the curve of your wrist--

Your pulse is being taken
By twilight again.


(First published in Poetry Salzburg Review #11, Spring 2007)

Metaphor

It is only in
Its constant

Glowing

The worm inside us
Makes us most

Moving.