Poetry

I call my me!
Who are me?
Who am me? more

Why is the place of sleep so lonely, why do worries
loom large in the dark? more

If bees pollinate in the key of C
what is the key of a stinging hornet? more

I set my soles on the ground of being,
my soul on the ground of Your being (Oh God).
Whereforever thou goest I wish to go
Whichever way the world tilts,
there with You, I wish to be. more

At the hour of our death amen,
does our life play like a video?
All the standout moments;
the blood splash and cry of birth,
significant birthdays, applause and cake? more

In Milwaukee in 1977 the winter was
a deep freeze of uncompromising darkness.
I ate in the weird little cosmos of George Webb’s greasy counter . . . more

My room is painted white and pale yellow more

Ghoulish numbers on the clock: it's three. Farewell sleep, I sigh, more

Is the rat offended by the smell of the dump?
Before cities,
before squalor and pestilence and sewers,
where did the rat dwell? more

I left my suitcases. Inside were keep-sake rings and bracelets photo albums of my trip to Europe, more