from out of the abyss

My thanks to KatherineZ at Sorting out Abyss for providing a link to my blog--nice surprise!

Sour Grapes

Succinctly.

One of them poet words.
Sounds queer, I mean
like you was a damn dwarf
plumber sucked down some wife's horny
crawdad hole of a cunt
and just staying there, period.

There oughta be a law
against words like that.

Never could
say it anyway.

(First published in Poetry Salzburg Review #2, Winter 2001/02)

Small Street Song

below me, the
tin-

smith bangs his
hammer, the

old man sells
grapes, sweet

he says, try
some you'll see

sunshine his donkey
sways in

time
you can almost

taste it

(from Sentences, 1976)

Convergences

dusk ga-
thering
dove

in eaves.

(from The Intricate Evasions of As)

Another Version of Pastoral

The bucolic poet?

He was last seen milking
His latest poem to death.

(from The Intricate Evasions of As)

To a Poet Who Thinks He Has No Need of Revision

On second thought,
You need to

Turn over anew
Leaf through whatever

You thought you knew.

Venus

all
ready
heavenly

body,
she

enters
the
evening

stars
anew
again.