I know what my mom would say. I’ll just say this.
poetry
The trouble with my imagination (a poem)
Up a little late tonight.
As the shadow phase begins (a poem)
There’s a bright, golden moon tonight.
Behnd the mask when masks are up front (a poem)
A self-portrait of sorts.
The spiralling of winter ghosts (a poem)
Written during a poetry reading while listening to David Sylvian & Holger Czukay.
Acknowledgement (a poem)
It is popular these days to begin certain gatherings by ‘acknowledging the land’. But it seems to me that the people offering these ‘acknowledgements’, however well-intentioned, are leaving a few things out.
For my part, I acknowledge that this is likely not a popular opinion.
233 (a poem)
Where there’s fire and a whole lot of wind, there’s smoke—and a lot of it.
My goal is that eventually the title and the poem will have no connection whatsoever (a poem)
Because, really, I come up with either decent titles or decent poems, but seldom both.
Three premises having nothing to do with the photograph of a man on television in Hong Kong (circa 1980) hanging on my living room wall (a poem)
Inspired by the cover of the Haruomi Hosono album The Endless Talking, plus a few stray thoughts.
A black-and-white photograph and the tenuous connection of memory (a poem)
I started with the photograph; then it was suddenly 1988 again.
Ordinary Average Thoughts 