poetry

May 25, 2016

Forecasts say prepare for rain, so you will—
will keep at the ready tarp and cord, tents

and candles. And you will drink to the gulls
circling and the May sun high above rocks

Photo by Mary Aherne

April 12, 2016

Cliff Forshaw transposes DanteInferno to Hull, England. 

March 9, 2016

But why did the chicken leave its roost? How did the chicken lay a golden egg? What were the chicken bones doing in the trash?

February 26, 2016

It’s our bread and butter; take a look-see.

Behold the man who can stand on one finger,

the amazing boy who can eat anything.

February 6, 2016

Never again will I feed the mustangs my mind,
Outstretched in the grey moon of morning.

January 13, 2016

Came a homeless man, without a foot,
dressed up in a new canvas sack,
tied up with a belt in the usual style

December 30, 2015

Honor the grit, the skylight plywood,
The attic rats and wall roaches.
Greet the vagrant dwellers walking. . .

December 18, 2015

You blitzed literature, took philosophy
In a whirlwind. Casts of iron and blood
Forged a new empire. . .

December 11, 2015

Through the window, clam-tight, oozes
A dark cloud, flowing beneath the ceiling.
Leaves rain down, drizzling,
Burying my body, the flames not yet dead.

November 18, 2015

All the small griefs, the petty slights, the imagined
worst things, he’s placed them each

in its own little cage . . .

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