Poetry

Born Once For several weeks we barely slept. She stretched out her arms for me to lie with her in summer’s grass. Across the creek a revival meeting was gaining momentum, old time religion in an outdoor pavilion, where above…
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Meg Men Jims like me wake up in life already playing second fiddle in realms of sex and love – indistinct, undistinguished, thousands of us hungering for never offered solo parts. Megs like her float among us, plain as sin,…
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Playing Time Look at Jesus, who tells adulteresses whom he loves to go and sin no more. Or Joseph, who does not succumb to the pretty wife of Potiphar. They’re the ones on God’s first team. But Sampson, Adam, and…
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Summer, At Best “Be ye therefore perfect…” from “The Sermon on the Mount” Taller, an inch, depending on the shoe. Slimmer, at best, a pound or two. More openhanded, perhaps, if you count nickels and dimes. But can I count…
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Incarnate — “Mission Accomplished” Think of him as a wee barnyard elf; farm help, working off his low elf-esteem, hell bent to go beyond all doubts of his worth to mess with his beloved sacred cow, on fire for her…
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Among Carptenter Bees You don’t sting me, I don’t kill you. We make a pact, and suddenly this buzzing around my head sounds like rain in the trees, spring creeks running fast, the muffled hum of secret sex, or those…
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