Friday, October 24, 2014

Radio Conversations and Field Trips

Last Friday, I had the pleasure of visiting with poet buddies Wendy McVicker and Becca J.R. Lachman! (Becca's book, Other Acreage, will be coming out from Gold Wake Press in spring!) They kindly invited me to have a chat on a radio program that they host, Conversations from Studio B. We spent 30 minutes chatting about poems and creativity--it absolutely flew by.

If you'd like to listen in on our chat, it's available here.

It was a refreshing day that I spent with Wendy and Becca--afterward, I visited with Becca's awesome poetry students, and we discussed process, line breaks, and publishing.

Poetry and art field trips are some of my favorite outings. What field trips have you taken lately?

Thursday, October 23, 2014



In a distant galaxy, an asteroid is born.
The asteroid is flung and flies.
The asteroid gains consciousness.
The asteroid thinks it is a large planet.
On this planet, a tree appears.
The tree has always existed.
The tree springs up fully formed in one instant.
The tree is growing upside down.
Its branches are roots.
All branches of trees are roots eating light.
It’s a sprig of broccoli.
A child wants to eat a tree.
A divine person wants to eat a tree.
A boy in suspenders shrugs out of them.
A boy in a coat removes a coat and places it on a fence.
There is a hungry person.
The tree shakes its head to see leaves fall.
The tree cries because all of its leaves drop from it.
The more tears, the more leaves.
The tree has accepted that at any moment it could disappear.
The tree is trying to accept this.
An asteroid admires Earth.
An asteroid sees a tree and falls in love.
An asteroid pursues a tree.
A human opens a window in a house.
A human closes her eyes to hunt a thought.
The noise is so loud it replaces all other sounds.
There is no sound.
The light engulfs one planet.
The light eats the sound.
There is a flash of light and then the normal day resumes.
A woman puts her arm in the sunlight.
The bagged leaves huddle around their tree.
The bagged leaves look down the road.

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

This Modern Love

This Modern Love

Between us a pan of water
from which we pull cool ladlefuls

Each day we become more like the Big Dipper

and see how there is an enchantment upon us
that we are grateful for

We announce it

Unbidden a woman tells me today her cat’s name
Morris Three

Included in her love for her alive cat are her two dead cats

She goes on loving him
in the tradition of love she has felt

Love and beloved what you are is a bowl

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Reading a Map Is a Form of Dreaming

Reading a Map Is a Form of Dreaming

Where can I find a quieter mind
When I hunt it is always in the real darkness

Someone told me to invent a place and then listen to it

What I heard were leaves

In the dark like this a house looks like a mountain
The dog is its own shadow

Monday, October 20, 2014



The song of youth that returns
to find you alone in a car

and older You sing it
as a form of obedience

You know where the voice
will go before it does

and you know the harmony
you invented that helped

you touch the spine
of the song You sing and

drive All around you
the final beauty of red leaves

Final for them and for you
in this year The tree will

live long after you On a hill
a cemetery simple and small

Colony of stones to speckle
the grass Every kind of shadow

will punctuate the day And within
the river of air coursing through

this place a million songs still quiet
yet untranslated by sound or ear