Hairy time at hospital for seven days. Emergency operation. Death’s door creaked open, then shut again. I am still here. Loving what I loved ever more! Here is a prose poem about the universe. From my book The Green Monk (Boiler House Press, 2018).
from The Green Monk, Boiler House Press, 2018.
Are you feeling wild. Beepers were wild, especially on studly belts, in the 1990s, in Southern Utah. Here is a studly poem. From my most recent book, The Green Monk (Boiler House Press). (image: Nancy Baker, ‘Wild Man’)
from my latest book, The Green Monk (Boiler House Press 2018).
from The Green Monk (Boiler House Press).
Ancient elephants and Dalí. From my book The Green Monk.
A Polish Christmas poem. From The Green Monk.
In Madrid there is a street called the street of lamps. It is called the street of lamps because they sell many lamps. It is also a street with cold floor cafe with sawdust and old medieval style damp alleyways with flowerpots on the balconies. I sat there, in the cafe, after wandering the streetContinue reading “The Street of Lamps”
Jerry sported gold chains, even when he broke the bread, the body of Jesus, and passed the little cups of water, the blood of Jesus. It was a thin one, there were thicker ones. It was the end of 1980s, North Las Vegas. French kissing was in the air. Here is a gold chain, fromContinue reading “Gold Chains and French Kissing”
The Candle in the Pumpkin From my new book The Green Monk.