Category Archives: Poetry

The Same Barber Chair

 

Not to have crossed

room means chamber

XII means cranial nerve, hypoglossal

VI abducens, and I say this from memory

my own photo reminds me of a Cloud Atlas

the random page from a journal

In the days we used phone books and oversized maps,

blew the dust off a giant atlas in a domed room scented with oak and leather

the same barber chair keeps showing up in my dreams

haze around the perimeter

sideburns on my black and white set

quarks and photons and scatter, cosmic rays or the glasses you pretended to buy in a Johnson Smith Catalogue.

M-mode and rabbit ears, things only a cardiologist would understand

or a boomer

I still listen for HAL in my dreams

the only computer I’ll ever feel sorry for

Who was Apollo?

 

Seed

I knew him you did too the silly kid with a chipped tooth and gnarly hair   He stood over there A houseplant   sowed from stale air and a wet bed   From streams of sun seeping through the thickened foliage of our cluttered home   It penetrated delicate layers of his pale skin… Continue Reading

Olympic Dots

  Five intersecting rings Five unconnected dots Yellow or is it gold, for the boy who sprinted To the rescue of his infant sister, mangled in a mine field A blue dot for the doctor in rural China He closed the holes in thousands of blue baby hearts—turning them whole again Black is the dot… Continue Reading

Empty Chairs

Two seats for people that should love But are gone Could stare into gray water A gray sky Believed that black and white Never should make gray But should blend to something great Vibrant color Synergized from the heart So much more than the sum of its parts   Continue Reading

Lip Balm

An ointment tastes of things I’ve lost   Caked on at night By morning an arid cracking of my youth   Fissured salt flats and an alien moon Peppered splinter ground in cedar   Hypoglossal hints of eucalyptus carbonated with ozone thrusts   Hiss and steam, cheek to lingual buds The ferric twang of denuded… Continue Reading