October Poem 48: Poetry as Playing with Fire

I write poetry to chisel faces

Out the stone emotion of words. I

Use the grain of the stones to chip away at the

Language with flint and steel until sparks fly.

Until heat sparks flame in the tender of

Verse. To burn down the page. To scorch the lips

Of the faithful. To anger the mind. To

Light to flame the mountainside brush. My

Poetry is a lithograph of words

Set on stone tablets to print to pages

The rules of language bestowed only to

Be broken. To set the dictionary

Of lies that will bring forth ideologues

Who will try to hold your feet to the flame.






August Poem 13: Death Image

But he would experience death. Image

Through the mass of humanity and stop.

Billy was a small kid. Dead. For he was.

He wasn’t willing to wait in all this

Work. It had begun luggage in language.

Today, Jenkins would take full advantage

Acid tearing away your breath. Feeling

Of the badges perks. He walked past the line

Carver of art. The other. The outside.

The gate shook but didn’t budge. Jenkins turned

Converting to Islam. And were he to

This time, he pointed to his badge and said,

A breath mint. A compilation of short

Hey, let me through. The man in the booth scoffed.

July Poem 20

Is the governess a prologue?

James’s discursive field of letter.

The governess said after and then repeated governess.

This phrase could be sign that he had himself.

The reappearance of a story to tell his story

Creates an area of discourse.

I saw he was not hand.


James following this, I took for an argument.

Yes, the competition, the went.

This nothing two more times,

James Douglas.


Elsewhere, Francesco and Miles

Repeat the word. Up until page 6.

Before Miles admits to having

Opened the story to the group.


Before the fact, the manuscript arrives.

And how the author’s hand postpones his telling

Should be referred to as the hand of agree.