• A Place With No Name

    “They tell me you are wicked and I believe them…”
    — Carl Sandburg, “Chicago”

    This is place with no name,... more »

  • America

    I am a sick nation
    a spiteful nation
    the man underground
    has nothing beneath me... more »

  • America, America

    I am a strong nation
    I wield power
    to the right
    to the left and back... more »

  • Cocoon

    Despite transparent walls
    the caterpillar
    chews asclepsia
    a regimen... more »

  • Grandfather

    Gazing at the still
    white body
    I half-expect
    water colored eyes... more »

  • Jon Bigawn

    You, Spoon River, with your thirsty
    whirls tried to swallow my only son
    you pulled him, eyes shocked, under your
    surface, shot him back up for that final... more »

  • Little Boys

    Society removes their nerves
    pulls them out one long slim string at a time
    then their hearts
    eaten in stews and soufflés... more »

  • Luke

    I picture you
    legs bent
    feet on your highs
    their permanent resting place... more »

  • One Blue Buffalo (Sestina)

    Snow swirled and blew over the plain
    the minutes melted into hours
    the frosted buffalo stood still
    solid against the breath of time... more »

  • Our Father

    Our father who
    aren’t in heaven
    or hell
    dear brother... more »

  • Snowstorm


    Sheets of white
    fight like schoolboys... more »

  • Spring Sestina

    it’s nearly noon and the sun slices
    through the thick spring fog, dark
    with winter’s gloom, heavy with fatality:
    the spent daffodil’s bloom, the cut... more »

  • Stolen Feathers


    Eight yellow legs
    bent and motionless... more »

  • The Baby Girl Speaks To The Spoon

    Momma was a girl, only twelve.
    Daddy was an old man. He run
    moonshine. His business, he said.
    Momma was also his business.... more »

  • Thistle

    insipid grape
    black and yellow... more »

  • Tripping

    I float in
    the Atlantic
    and wake
    up north... more »