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The old beggar by the church door

Each Sunday I see him seated on the church steps, bedraggled clothes, white hair and beard, as I arrive for the last Mass, head bowed almost to his...

2 poems

Prelude I’m scared of this masterpiece,                           how I painted it so perfectly with every bit of green and blue, sewed                           to a threshold of fragmented doors— a...

Planting Season

They start when the sunlight isstill soft. They wear their sarok, farm’subiquitous item. From afar, theylook like banana plants that sag at the weightof...

Geography of our Melancholies

For Mariko   This inconsolable distance Between our lips Separated by unfamiliar cities And impassable seas; This insatiable wonder for the unknown That grows every day in morbid anticipation Of the smell...

As Fog

As fog grazes these hillsawash with browning shrubs,shanties creep from the valleylined with rivers swelling withdry rocks and restless ants.

nothing has changed only the forms of it

nothing has changed only the forms of it when we wedded the struggle brought us before a mayor who joked, run as fast as you can don’t let the dictator catch you

Muon

A fifth fundamental force might help explain some of the big puzzles about the Universe that have exercised scientists in recent decades. BBC The key to how the world works: Muon.After the fog had withdrawn one morning,I hiked up the mountain trail to seewhat...

TWO POEMS

KUNG FU POEM You killed my master In syllables two seconds out of synch with the lips,while a crooked finger points back to himself, vengeance smoldering in a fingertip,preponderance of death in a single knuckle. Wind and wine, be still, be without form—be water, which is never...

What Is Your Name?

How do you call yourselfwhen no one, not even you,listens? Where do you find the wordswhen everything escapes yourthoughts? What stories come to lifewhen images are no longerreal? When do you stop hearingwhat who always calls your namesays? How do you begin again?

FALL

How lovely to imagine he fall.In many ways, how true is that word for the season? And how the Bible has it in its very first chapter,Only beginning, and yet already there. Things fall, their the last act of grace –Leaves, bright red in postcards...

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