Purging the Soul

Ever up from the forest time wailing,

The she wolf lost further back in his head.

The guardian hides still beyond seeing

With pools to wash in when his sins are paid.

He clings and slides and steps while he grovels.

But prayers from below still lighten his breast.

Standing even in his latex envies,

Luis had eased the painting in his chest.

He brought it forward and up, heaving with

The strengthening of the wind on his back.

Hands and feet sticky with the wet clay earth,

He rests from his climb, sliding slowly back.

Panting with effort and knowing his worth.

He rests from his climb, sliding slowly back.

November Poem 4: Marina (Part 4)

And damned did we both know it wouldn’t be

Him, not for much longer. And that last time

He was in the hospital I made him

A promise that I would find a crew and

Get the boat working. And I knew that the

First step was to find my daughter again.

My ex-wife wanted me to be able

To say that I had been sober for a

Year before I could see my daughter but

Only if she wanted to meet with me

Again. Because, my wife said, drinking had

Made me mean and our daughter suffered at

My hands. But when you’ve spent years on the street,

Failure is always one cheap pint away.


Marina (Part 3)

Marina (Part 2)

Marina (Part 1)

How I Write: a Walk Through

September Poem 44: Kraven the Hunter

When was the last time that you heard from him?

Can you believe you are still mad? All this

From a simple two lines of text. It had

Been so long, yet you allowed yourself to

Blaze. To spark the old man’s breath that caused the

Long ash to fall. Because it’s better, they

Say. Famously so. The memories. They

Crumble as you cut. The Fries. I’m sure he

Would have treated you. He realized that you

Were married with faith in foods like the French.

The cool. The air conditioner people.

Cut the people. Enjoy the line digging

The channels for wires to atone for

What he’s done. Would you give his redemption?