When the Salt Blew

In woods, along the ocean,the trees feed along briny streams,the moon feeding,then starving,day upon day -time without end In woods,forest that turn towards marsh,estuaries holding heron,dinosaur-like beasts taking wingbeating along curving waters,disappearing into copses of white cedarscrubby pine, bent by winds In woods, where I fed her grapes, a picnic my young heart had packed,the … Continue reading When the Salt Blew


When We are brave

When we are brave enough we are not present we are simply in a wrong moment Between key strokes and dramatic elipsing lays our raging moments, against the dying of the light And we feed our platform as it feeds on us, our bravery (our sex) is stroking keys and raging at random moments