8 O’Clock Haiku

Two cups of coffee Blacker than the sky outside This Wednesday morning.   The road to the bus Is going even deeper Than the mirrored sky.   And burgeoning dawn Spreading red flower petals Now across the blue.


A house like any other house, A room like any other room, A time like any other time ‘xcept for the penguins in suits.   One is the butler, brings champagne, One’s for a hook to hang your coat, One’s taking pictures, choosing frames And one slides down a country road On his soft belly,... Continue Reading →

Neptune’s Cave

When peoples build temples, are they ever meant for someone other than themselves?   Modernism is relentless – It sweeps the ages through the cracks And resurrects the specters that were never dead, But forgotten for good reason.   It implies a line – A line at gunpoint drawn.   These early days of spring... Continue Reading →

The Shallows

Some things are better left silent, Some waters are better left undisturbed Since there’s nothing the surface is hiding Except hurt.   And the past is the past is the past is the past is the past. We’re still swimming.   Mushroom clouds can be quite gorgeous Except on a day with an overcast sky... Continue Reading →


Last night you brought this girl over that I’ve never seen before. I don’t know where you met her, when you met her, who of you flashed the first smile. I don’t know her name, and I’ll most likely never learn it, because this morning she disappeared again. Out of your room, out of my... Continue Reading →

The Collector

The master strides through his curious realm, Every step matching eons, Every gaze spanning lifetimes, All lined up on his shelf.   A collector, an inspector, a transgressor of what’s right, The master strides – Past dreams of Byzantine war widows, Ancient vows displayed in gold And an endless array of magnificent creatures In cages,... Continue Reading →


The lighthouse shines like memories of a star And guides my path through darkness from afar. As I, upon the howling wind, do hear My promise of redemption, faint but clear.   So on a snow-clad field I walk at night Braving the blizzard’s unrelenting might That piles and piles the snow both sides of... Continue Reading →


First published in the CMU Literary Review 2016, Grand Junction, CO   The watchmaker cried on the night his wife died, although he had always despised tears. Tears meant salt, salt meant rust, rust meant imprecision, and imprecision plus time could mean nothing but death. Due to his profession, the watchmaker knew all about time,... Continue Reading →


There’s nothing more serene than a road at night Being devoured by forests and blue. All is calm; all is silent. The whole world is floating to nowhere land On this nocturnal ride.   And all things that move, all things that live, All things that die, and churn up, and soothe Are obscured by... Continue Reading →


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