To a Neophyte Poet Blinded by the Light

You have the gift
Of offhand sleight,

Though naught it seems
As touch to sight.

Punch-Drunk Down And Out in Tijuana

What's missing, slugger,
Is the zing in the mescal,

The bat out of hell, worm in
Your belfry loud as a bell.

Bad Seed

It kept well, conserved
In the niggard's dark pantry,

Till prosperity undid the latch,
And off it went spoiling,

Spilling into the light,
To be preserved

For posterity.

(First published in NO/ON: journal of the short poem, Spring 2009.)

Malva Sylvestris Vazambam

Two years ago, Eleni and I gathered various wild mallow seeds and scattered them throughout our garden. Measuring in at 3,5 meters, this is the tallest of the 30-some mallows that we now have. Not bad, considering the ordinary mallows found in the surrounding countryside seldom get much over a meter.

NB: This post was originally saved as a draft on June 15th but owing to an enormous Blogger anomaly, it could not be posted until today (June 20th).

Variation on Stevens' "Of Mere Being"

What is the palm saying
As it sways in the wind?

It's time to be leaving,
Time to be born again.