The epochal zenith,
an explosion of creation...

We don't play games around here,
and in silence we drift apart...

Another night
wraps around me...

Academia is dead
and the street poets rule...

Was all she was
and can never be again...

Go back from
whence you came...

Somewhere in the desert
of New Mexico, an old man...

With you
every year is magic and wonder...

It was the dawn of another summer,
I sat on the porch...

We were drinking one Friday night
in a tacky bar in Ukachuk, Nebraska...

Aquarium apartment
face against the window glass...

And I sit alone, writing
poems, stories, thoughts, & wanderings...