Abandoned

I know my simile’s weak but still

I insist these old houses are like old people 

In one aspect at least—finding themselves alone 

They fall silent, 

And wait and wait and wait 

Till they find themselves falling, 

Falling into a deep, uninterrupted sleep. 

Bushwhacker

The moon’s a round 

Pale-faced lunatic lurking 

Behind those silver-lined clouds— 

Watch out, you star-struck fool!

One Writer's New Year's Resolution

I want to get something out 

that is working away at me. 

—Stevie Smith 

So I’m going 

To keep on walking past 

Midnight through this graveyard 

Even if it kills me— 

You? 

Alms

I beg to differ 

With you, sir

Is it not more 

A matter of your refusing 

Than my asking 

Forgiveness for you too? 

Confessional

I have to get this off my chest— 

The more I put down on paper, 

The less my bitter heart feels 

At rest.