Doppelgänger

imagine a double

crossing the mirror
with your face

en face.

Tumified

Buoyed by the thought
Of casting off

All seven deadly sins,
He thought he heard

One calling him
To walk on water

In total immersion
Till he could no longer

Take it in.

Struck Dumb by Laziness

Hard to believe?

Even dumb things astonish
By ringing true to the ear

To the sound tinkering thinker
Who does nothing

But listens simply to hear.

Of Poetry and Its Poetic

“Perfection Has It's Price”—
The Motto that Guides My Poetry Practice
--for Joseph Hutchison

Dear Joe,

It’s apo-
Strophic

Poesy re-
Turning,

Paying its price-
Less perfection,

Yours again,
With affection.

The Little House That Jack Built

There was a house here once,
Which used to house a jackass
Peering from an opening

That used to be a door
When a passerby appeared,
But he peers no more.

No more Jack, no more house,
No more door, no more glaring
Jackass, broken stones galore.