‘You’re so analytical. Sometimes you have to let art just…flow over you.’
—William Hurt as Nick, The Big Chill
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poem
Trail (a poem)
Watching The Shining.
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Bookstore Poem #400. Saturdays at the stadium
Remembering one of the old autumn rituals earlier today…
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The man-like creature boasts (a poem)
Wrote down a list of words during today’s poetry readings—marrow, boast, pleasure, terse, lamp-lit, iris, expulsion, mercy, vista, aspen, milk, dialect, antique, Russian, creature—and used as many as I could for this poem…
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Bookstore Poem #399. The approach-avoidance conflict as a torn carpet seam
Bonus round…
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Zero knots (a poem)
A quiet morning, waiting, and Ruby Throat…
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Episode (a poem)
Starting early today…
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Bookstore Poem #397
Strange thing, time…
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Bookstore Poem #391. Dissenting opinion
Grabbed a few minutes at the bookstore between tasks…
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(no subject) (a poem)
Going with my lack of words today…
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Ordinary Average Thoughts 