Latest Works

The snake got me on the ankle. I was alone in the bush, so the implications were clear. It was a mamba. He struck more than once, but I only saw him slithering away. The two essentials when faced with a snake bite were car keys and a cell phone. That’s what my instructor always said, but cell phones are really just distractions, so I was one short. Half wasn’t bad. I grabbed my keys and trudged through the grass to the Land Cruiser. Another crucial element of the snakebite

Metempirics: study of concepts and relationships conceived   as beyond and yet related to knowledge gained empirically.  A concept barely construed––  conjugation of roses  essence redolent as champac  the fragrance sacred to Vishnu  protector of the world  A being like you   awash in my consciousness so long  then flesh and bone of presence  enigmatic florescence of conflux  out of angle, stance, sound, and movement   We crush  to that essence  so many bruised petals  from

Between the hours of blue heron and red winged blackbird, wade in through duckweed: mosquito larva,  dragonfly larva, tadpoles claiming space near ankles and face the sky.   Savor sacred energy:  light, strength,  source of all food. Migration reminds: go forward with warmth, turn as flowers  following the sun, stop  believing excess holds answers: create space for foundation,  growth: eat that outright,  give song like a bird shade like a bush bathe in flowing rivers,  feet

Upon the knowing horse he rode, paused, and picked a fair but gloomy rose, The color of glass without and of the liquid locked within. The horse of instinct walked in fear. In a dark cave-home he conjured fire And sat upon Eastern rugs and contemplated a vanished world. "Someday the cave will grow into one-thousand chambers!" he mused,  Surrounded by unseen and unknown marvels. A purple glow fluoresced upon his face that turned to meet the source. Waste comes from what was on

I.  I am lathered in dirt, but I am not blind.  Like an octopus that sees with its skin,  I see the answers to everything—   There are scriptures written in the soles of people’s feet,  and I’ve seen billions of footsteps;   ones with long, languid leavings  ones with short, skittish scampers,  ones with uncaring cadences,  clearly content to ignore that they carry with them all they seek.  People mistake the eyes as the only organ with the power of sight,  and when the feet

I woke with two heads. It’s happened before, though long ago. I sat at the edge of my bed. A sad affair of sticks and wooden branches...

It was a nightmare.  My four-year-old self nervously paced the dining room floor. I frequently returned to the windowsill for another...

Ancient trees are a dying breed. They are a dying breed because they are steadily going out of existence, yes—but, more than that,...

The first thing to hijack my awareness was the silence. Not the absence of sound—the jungle is never truly quiet—but the sudden...

No gull-winged birdmen hang in this current and glide. Just two thrill-seekers strapped in a steel blue tow chair, suspended under a...

The doctor who admitted me didn't believe in ghosts. He believed in delusions, in misfiring synapses, in the chemical architecture of...

for every letter of the alphabet especially for the fuchsia fairy Sing to reading and rereading every single...

The policeman’s red and blue flashing lights signaled for them to pull over. Nikki, the driver, told Trini, who had drifted into the...

Dante does not presume to call him by name But poet, father, master, teacher and guide. His respect seems paramount, but the words ring...

Before the first strike of the chisel, she was stone. Ten sweat-grimed men worked quickly cutting into the ribs of a mountain that held...

I smelled him before I saw him, the pungent draft of maraschino and cigar smoke smacking sobriety into my rum-drunk skull. Three days on...

Numb and in a quandary—  Dazed, disengaged, stymied.  Here is your birth chart,  which I have calculated  and drawn by hand.  I deliver...

Where will you find another  Garden now the storm falls  in folds of black crepe, bars  of the wicket door are closed  with a padlock,...

I only ever see the moon in the morning early— before you’re awake— as birdsong first trills from hallowed branches to welcome the...

My mind, memories, and soul came into being—like waking up, only somehow, I was already awake. My dim cabin aboard the Samsa was more...