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COUPLING
Walking through the art gallery,she frequently pauses to lookat paintings of couples in a baror a cafe, engaged in conversation. I tell her they seem sad, as thoughwhatever romance they hadhas waned, they having grownapart, this a parting of sorts. She laughs and says that I mistakewistfulness for sadness, menso often do, and adds they…
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PERSPECTIVE
It is always, the artist told me,a question of angles and elevations,but I am sure that was just his perspective. Dali threw all of that out, madea pretty good living at taking perspectiveout of his work, replaced by fluidity. For Dali that fluidity resultedin a fair bit of liquidity, which wasan irony not the least…
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WEAVING
A length of threadcolorful to be surealone, easilyignored, sweptaside. Woveninto a tapestrypart of a picturetreasuredfor beauty, ordepicting horrorbut remembered. Countless threadscolorfulalonetogethertelling taleslockedin memory. First Published in New Feathers Anthology Spring 2021http://www.newfeathersanthology.com/new-feathers21.htm
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TOOLING AROUND
I have always wantedto use the word lugnutsin a poem, but stillhave never foundthe way to do so. It is much the samewith my full setof socket wrenches,still in futile searchfor a matchingset of sockets. I keep my bastardfile in the garagewith the other filesand tools, butmy name isthe only one in it.
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RED DOT
I have visited countless galleries,stared at or shielded my eyesfrom all manner of art, butI always read the plaquesaffixed to the walls, nameof artist, of work price,the relative amount speakingto the financial state of the gallery. I actually care very little aboutthe name of the artist otherthan as a historical reference,for the piece has already…
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BLUES
He is for it or he isagainst it, and if you couldpredict the vacillations youcould develop the meansof measuring the flux of sanity. You could as easily graspthe water flowing downriverand by asking select questionsdetermine the next heavy rain, but the odds are goodyou will be outside whenthe deluge begins, andonly its ultimate weightand duration…
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MONA
Of course, she’s sitting there,calmly, staring off onto space.She has to know somethingis amiss, no one has cometo visit her in days, but sheknows that whenever, if ever,whatever it is that is happeningis finally over, that theywill once again return, stareat her, wonder aloud and silentlywhy she is smiling, and shewill as always say nothing,…
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DEFINE-ITELY
It takes only moments for someoneto ask for a definition of poetry. That task is at once terriblysimple and equally impossible, a poem is many thingsbut not now or ever: a paean to a self-aggrandizingleader without soulor sense of direction,moral and literal; a rant on howall are conspiringagainst you despiteyour stable genius; a Jeremiad decryingfacts…
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THINGS TO COME
One morning last week I decidedto plant myself at a busy intersectionand begin reading poetry, mostlymy own, I have to admit. I was generally ignored, my usualstate, and that sadly of most poets,when a scruffy, bearded young manset up easel and paint next to me. The morning seemed to relishthe stillness of this urban way…
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ENSO WHAT
Today I again took up the brush,carefully mixed the sumi-e inkand with hand poised over a sheetof anticipating rice paper waited, knowing that the moment for a strokewas imminent but not yet at hand,and I dare not force it for brushpainting is a practice that cannot be compelled, a gentle mergerof idea, brush, ink and…
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an old writer and his words 