poetblood.blogspot.com
Crow: Two Vagrant Coyotes
http://poetblood.blogspot.com/2008/09/two-vagrant-coyotes.html
This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper." - T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men.". Sunday, September 28, 2008. We glid by the reservoir—and two coyotes. Pittered by with wide, competent eyes,. Then sunk into the caliginous firs. Like sugar in a vat of joe. We grew close in darkness,. That’s why I hated your service in the D street Episcopal—. Which all and every remember with great fondness. Because the day was bright as hell,. And the photographs poxing the bulletin board.
poetblood.blogspot.com
Crow: Sleeper
http://poetblood.blogspot.com/2010/06/sleeper.html
This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper." - T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men.". Thursday, June 03, 2010. You would have despised november. It was so cold,. And clotted the blue oaks. On the edge of the hill. Frigid dream of dark—-. Without ever having woken. Your small brown body. And the two hands hanging. Off the edge of the bed. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 2.5 License. Los Angeles, California. South, toward mangos and the sea.
poetblood.blogspot.com
Crow: Adam
http://poetblood.blogspot.com/2010/01/adam.html
This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper." - T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men.". Saturday, January 23, 2010. I hear the nakedness of the first man. His teeth against the flesh. And the snake against his leg,. His hands that have been. As many places and been there too. For a thousand years or however long. I’ve yet to discover if I can make a mistake. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 2.5 License. Los Angeles, California. South, toward mangos and the sea.
poetblood.blogspot.com
Crow: 01/2010 - 02/2010
http://poetblood.blogspot.com/2010_01_01_archive.html
This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper." - T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men.". Saturday, January 23, 2010. I hear the nakedness of the first man. His teeth against the flesh. And the snake against his leg,. His hands that have been. As many places and been there too. For a thousand years or however long. I’ve yet to discover if I can make a mistake. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 2.5 License. Los Angeles, California. South, toward mangos and the sea.
poetblood.blogspot.com
Crow: 04/2009 - 05/2009
http://poetblood.blogspot.com/2009_04_01_archive.html
This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper." - T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men.". Friday, April 24, 2009. I hear you crying in bed. Will rub the window. And spread out the ragged stains. Then your salt-crumbed face. Will be embarrassing to see—I’ll put on the kettle. To clear the air,. And read in the kitchen. Until the water is cool. Last night in a salty purl of fog. I stood by the café by the bank. A pimple of water. Stood on the table. To recall the demitasse. And the fog sucked slowly.
poetblood.blogspot.com
Crow: 08/2008 - 09/2008
http://poetblood.blogspot.com/2008_08_01_archive.html
This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper." - T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men.". Thursday, August 28, 2008. The song wore down—the torches’ querulous pits. The radio sputtered—. A movement began—. The doorway resolved the dark canker of your body. Advancing with bulldog conviction. Upon my unwary bivouac,. The questing snout and red jowls descending. And dispatching the feeble sentry. Whose dagger merely ceremonial,. Lacks the keenness to render warning persuasive. I have tried to forget.
poetblood.blogspot.com
Crow: 09/2008 - 10/2008
http://poetblood.blogspot.com/2008_09_01_archive.html
This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper." - T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men.". Sunday, September 28, 2008. We glid by the reservoir—and two coyotes. Pittered by with wide, competent eyes,. Then sunk into the caliginous firs. Like sugar in a vat of joe. We grew close in darkness,. That’s why I hated your service in the D street Episcopal—. Which all and every remember with great fondness. Because the day was bright as hell,. And the photographs poxing the bulletin board.
poetblood.blogspot.com
Crow: 07/2008 - 08/2008
http://poetblood.blogspot.com/2008_07_01_archive.html
This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper." - T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men.". Saturday, July 19, 2008. The Russian of Robertson Street. Mourn you the way. I used to,. Smell the same eleven oclock. Lawns of those same. Like the bulky spill. Of your foreign breasts—. Their scuffed paint fluttering. In the sprinklers’ luminous chaff. Came the sound of a train. Clobbering the distance,. And you stretched your incandescent throat. I’d so often drunk. As though thumbing open. A can of stars,.
poetblood.blogspot.com
Crow: 04/2008 - 05/2008
http://poetblood.blogspot.com/2008_04_01_archive.html
This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper." - T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men.". Tuesday, April 08, 2008. An old one, chanced upon during a search for editable material, and better than I thought. The wet mouth I. Curling soppy and jewel-like. Around me, which. Yours or mine;. The long love-clustered bough. With the deep sap-thrush,. Bursting in the loam,. And the sound of wild sighs. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 2.5 License. Los Angeles, California.
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Crow: Ears to Hear
http://poetblood.blogspot.com/2010/06/ears-to-hear.html
This is the way the world ends / Not with a bang but a whimper." - T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men.". Wednesday, June 16, 2010. Humps to the eaves and. Is not as tall as it will be. Mask the white face from you. Look through the window,. Tilts back and away against. The body of the damp corn. A curve of lips in the silk. Or two pale mitts on the haft,. Or another white face. With a puddle of blue wool. Where the stalk meets the earth. Los Angeles, California. South, toward mangos and the sea.
