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Poem – The Search
The sound of metal scraping across rock strewn fields is not the imagination filling time with stories and distracting thoughts away from what appears to be inevitable. No, that really is the machines emerging from the dense forest. That is the machines rewiring fluid thoughts, adapting to the immediate environment while focusing on the assigned…
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My religion is the open empty field
(1) I passed through the window looking for the outside and landed back here in my mind. When did I find this scene? I have never been here before but with closed eyes I smell the trees and summer afternoon. I can easily recall sepia-toned memories of the rusted red swing set surrounded by a…
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Poem – From the Marathon
The poem “From the Marathon” from the reading on 05/04/14. This piece is part of a larger work titled “Marathon Through Open Fields”. I awoke running through snowy fields, the bison lumbering with frozen noses and hanging breath the autumn wheat dusted with snow, weighed down from ice pellets they do not budge when I…