Poem for our history

Is there something that stitches together broken people with no common history Except that of being lost of free falling…

the pale

As to the pale: please note: the pale is exile and beyond is beyond  exile into – residue is all…

How morning pages work

Ok ok okMorning pageTeaThe heat is on. The hot water flickers through the pipesThe cat snores on her fake fur…

Quilts are Art.

There. I said it. I will not argue, or defend. You may have a different opinion. That is your perogative.…

Woken up just before dawn by a guy who is going through the recycling for returnable containers. Mike separates the collectibles for them but they search the bin for more. It sounds like he is inside of the house, the way that the sounds are redirected in the early silence through the open windows on the south side of the house so even though he is on the north side it sounds like he is in the back, on the south side, and when I wake to the sound it seems as though I am hearing it from in the kitchen which is on the first floor in the back southerly side of the house.

I am glad that my house is sited in a north to south direction, because it would be hard to…

continuance

Bones now, I imagine, just dust. Carbon Stardust, that is an angel name for sure. Maybe he is an angel…

skipping stones

At the end of the journey a calm descends. Small gifts are acknowledged in of the book of your life.…

Artifactual

prehistoric teeth in the bone, just barely now is the time to hit the floor and paint I tell myself…

Random things I have made in ‘lockdown’ Coronart?

skipping

Skipping, as a baby child of four or five years, tops, on a Naval base in Guam, or maybe some…

I had a father

I had a father, the dream began. Love was passed and squandered round the table in drops and puddles formed…