Saying Goodbye to Good Old Terra Firma

Mind set

on fanciful flight,
how on earth

were you expected
to venture

out in the dead of night
to stare

stupefied

at quivering firmament,
dumb feet planted firmly

there.

The Mind Shop

--for David Miller

mind’s crafty
fault lies

in finding
fault less.

Raking the Rock Garden

you’re thinking
it’s time

to water
the mind

scape.

Gesture

voices

of the few we've loved so
far

from us, nothing
matters but this

touch.

(from Sentences, 1976)

Blood Sucks, Brothers

I know it
Sounds bad,

But where

Would we be without
Dracula?

The Cur, the Bitch, and the Doggerel Writing Son of a Bitch

All you rabid fans of shoddy, shaggy dog poems—are you foaming at the mouth for lack of sustenance? Dig no further, I say, for the end of your suffering is just a mouse click away. Sic 'em!

The Bookie

Someone desperate says This is a stickup,
Your money or your life. Given
The choice, which would you

Choose? What a stupid question
I can hear you saying,
My life, of course. I say

Five will get you ten, friend,
Your life’s not worth
A plugged nickel.