Month: April 2015

The Waterfall (Portrait #6)

The train is always heard, cutting through waterfalls and springs. Only by standing close to the noise of water can the sound be heard. How does this waterfall speak? Each splash that ricochets off a rock looks the same as the one before. Each…

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The Collision Of Paragraphs

  The heated horizon Produces an allure. My eyes follow its linear line, moving with the melodic narrative– There are other voices—here Where hills make outlines. Harmony is horizontal– A dialogic freeway. It is the rain That stops streets And plays with the oil…

The Fern (Portrait #5)

This stream is the coldest my hands have ever touched. If there is a bottom to its shallowness, I can’t find it. The water seems so damned clear, too clear. I think I should be able to see, but I can’t. It must be…

Laminate Is A Pervert

  Don’t snuggle with a rug Unless properly vacuumed And groomed Hardwoods are bit ornery but shine right up When waxed with love Hook Shag up with a van They’re meant for each other Indoor Outdoor likes it both ways Tiles are squares, most…

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Washcloths Are Scrubs

  A bath towel knows the raw and rude truth Which in most cases Is not a good thing A paper towel gets wet Easily. Then it’s all over In one or two short wipes A kitchen towel thinks they’re fancy schmancy But is…

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