breakdancing clouds
laughingly roar
with all the grace
of shattering glass.

(from “Collected poems and stores”)


When dusk acquiesces
to the shelter of night,
overpowering the
songs of crickets and
silent movements
of creepy-crawlers,
a quiet calm
the ruminations of
my psyche
allowing soul regression
to dance
in the matrix
between experience
and remembrance.


Dulled slivers of emotion
no longer entangled with
words flutter and scurry
Once air-bound, the
footloose fragments of
a life gone past seek
resolution and release by
eluding recognition and
assuaging the sharpness of reality.
And quite relentlessly these
now-transformed bits of
parchment confetti find new
definition by recreating history.

(from “Three-legged Waltz”)

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