May 28, 2024

Autobiography, a Poetry Reading

There are two light bulbs shining in the room like two fixed eyes in a reflection. Already the person has disappeared and there is a thud in your head. It’s like the sound of time passing. It’s like the echo that would reach you in advance of your own future death.
January 4, 2023

The Way Cats Wake Up to a Passion of Birds

We don’t remember light. We remember the dark. The cruelties; the misgivings. We remember winter and fistfuls of ice, like cold salt tossed in a face with contempt, a form of shunning, bitter the gesture; the censure of wind and snow.
June 29, 2022

Near Uncas Point – A MockingOwl Roost Poetry Reading

Winters coaxed this sandspit From shore and outgoing tides,  In radiant disarray, have returned  Land to the harbor by at least a half,  Leaving mud flats adorned with  Alluvial fans, hump-backed inlets 
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