Emiliano was deported
last month.
Today he has returned
and is loading plastic tubs
of cover crops
into a dented white van.
I saw a terrible crash
Out of body I was there Watching it happen Like the man on the TV I saw him shoot himself Every time I saw myself crash The smell of blown airbags Pieces of glass in my teeth I Cut teeth Still finding them in my shoes On these tender feet Weeks later Like my first […]
crows in a wheat field (for Vincent)
in Sun you are weeping dragging last bits of impasto Black across the sky beside you wheat goes on forever golden waves breaking breaking crows gather thick to one side Black like sudden tears they shudder then fly away you hang your head you do not watch them go
Sentences
Minds dip all day into words,
seining food from conversations
and roving stacks of books.
We gather, compose, revise —
slowly meaning more.
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Remembering Steve McLeod
Here are a few more words and photos about Steve McLeod. He specifically posed himself into the hooped picture, and I think he meant for me to share it and the others if the time came. We didn’t speak about that time directly, but he seemed to be intimating it. For the past ten or more […]
Marching for Monsanto to Change their Ways
I snapped this photo outside my shop. Many thanks to these Cannon Beach folks who showed public support for health and Mother Nature! They were marching in solidarity with Mexican farmers who on the same day celebrated Mexico’s ban of GMO corn. Thousands of people marched in more than 400 cities and more than 40 countries around the world. GMO […]
All Things Must Change — Eventually
Most Sundays (though this week it was Saturday), I talk with a German friend of mine, Volker, using the wonderful Skype software. Because we talk via our devices and not the phone, the “calls” are free (except for the Internet charges we pay in any case).[More…]
Strawberry Fields: Seems Like Forever
I woke up this morning at 4:30 a.m., which is completely unlike me. I am not, in any way, nor have I ever been, a morning person. It’s a gawd-awful hour to be up. I don’t think that even Jesus has had his morning coffee by that hour. I don’t know why I woke so […]
Some thoughts on us, the Wheeler clearcut, and exiled Chilean poets
We are trees Falling in the Forest except there isn’t a Forest there isn’t even a tree, standing or Falling only a clear cut between a question hypothetically asked and our true answer (thank you Roberto Boleno)
Encounters with the Jewish Jesus
Back in 1986, I was browsing my university bookstore when someone yelled, “How dare you wear that?!” Before I turned around, I glanced down to make sure my pants matched my shirt. What could I be wearing that was so offensive? Was this hostility even directed at me? The scowling woman was dressed in a […]
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