Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

    Where do you get your ideas?

In that midnight garden where poetic mysteries grow
the deeper you dig, the bloodier the soil. Take off your shoes,
this is sacred ground—dig deep or go home.


    Graveyards of Our Glory

        |_|by the West Bank Wall
        the playgrounds are littered
        with intifada toys.


        Where once was genocide
        Now, in old town square, a child
        plays with a toy gun.


    The Inconvenient Truth is Out There

        I don’t know what I’m doing in Podgorica but
        if the alien body snatchers get me it
        is comforting to know my replicated pod replacement
            won’t either.


    Vessel of Opportunity, Object of Value

        Your eyes are the color of chlorine and broken glass,

        she says in a sigh—her breath like an altar
        sagging with the weight of fallen grace.


~•~

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