In my enthusiasms pages turn thick
...
Friday, 13 February 2015
Friday, 6 February 2015
Today he was pacing back and forth, dragging his fingers in the dirt and glancing at the people.
Last year, he'd sat there like a stuffed trophy.
Jim, John and I yelled and threw peanuts, a handful of which sold for a nickel from a glass dispenser by the guardrails. When some of the nuts hit him, he picked them up one by one with a hand way too big for the job, but then he delicately picked off the shell with his fingertips, popped...
Friday, 30 January 2015
one day the ground crumbles
the streets of stability split and
separate you
and me
and we stand at different poles
not tethered by power lines or sewage pipes and i feel
alone
despite the enormous sea
the enormous city engulfing me
and i wonder what the weather’s like on your side
and i wonder what i’m missing out on because i crossed over
and crossed back to what i once left behind
where are you? where are we?
across, over,...
Friday, 23 January 2015
A tolerant democracy
allows self-full, bloated poets
to hide in a university
sneering at the workings of the world,
secure in the protective cloak of tenure.
Once poets' voices raised the call
for freedom, other great causes.
Now most wallow in comforts
mumbling impotent objections
to current events
beyond their comprehension.
- Gary Beck
Tennis-playing, ditch-digging, salvage-diving writer with a penchant for poetry. Explore his impressive repetoire of poems, short stories, novels, plays,...
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