the red planet’s raspberry drupelets thank Vonnegut
(First published on Under the Basho.)
a nest feathered with fingers sticky from pulling out your eyes
(First published in Under the Basho.)
trick of the recursive planet. Though, with his pet dodo on the run,
(First published in Under the Basho.)
under my eyelid all the long summer
grit from the forgotten pyramid
my grasswe(e)t toes too long to trod over any meringue
a golden bubble chases the pigs
while Nobody plots
late unrhymable light my splitting shoe the same
Her trilling toes through
morning-star-wet grass
over calm water an orange concierge ogles a pint of rhyme
If you love tiny gems of super-condensed poetry, check out Bones, which is back from hiatus and better than ever! They just published #23, with a few from yours truly…
soft dusk colored waves of music from the cicada’s home planet
the sky moves so fast a fragrance like marshmallow
what I thought a purple crystal dissolved in morning dew
evidence of the old civilization if the light is just right on the microscope slide
meters into the crevasse wrongly assumed it was scree
fields like maple syrup over a fresh argument
a language I’ve yet to master sneaks into my notes
returning to a previous marker an acrid smell sunken ground
stuck inside the tent autocorrecting hail
rivers like a laughing bandage to forget the insults of rock
the way forward often loops around in sharpened midday rain
what I wrote on a rock ran away
this mountain like melted gnomes who to name it after
a quiet spot by the river eaten by these mineral teeth
the silicavore’s thought projections jostle the rover’s gyro
a fine web like cotton candy spreads toward the sea by evening
I think there are dogs in the clouds
a dry brown leaf and voices in the wind almost enough like home
before you drain the river smoke this limited-edition emotion