Some Mornings Should be Spent in a Tree

Fecund landscape, terraformed and terraforming, full of animals long habituated to the roaring of wheels and steel, children rushing from game to game clutching violins, picolas, harboring seeds of violence and remorse. Surrounded by watery roads and tankers tip-topped with cargo boxes, highways and light rail lines, pierced by adventuresome, noisome coyote, hawk, pigeon and - … Continue reading Some Mornings Should be Spent in a Tree

Nimrod’s Lips

Broken. All my words broken. Asunder and cracking. A slinger hurling stone against my forehead, Breaking me. I had one language; and this I began to do: Nothing was restrained from me, which I had imagined to do. Now, my thoughts, like a people speaking the same language, scattered. You came down. Confounded my language. … Continue reading Nimrod’s Lips