Wednesday, April 30, 2008



Even in the ancient dark of night,
they hum, or twitter, or throb,
boom and roar and growl unbidden
to sustain the civilized world,
(read: keep me warm, fed, entertained).

They mark time with my beating heart
as I go to sleep, singing a motorized lullaby
of wheels and wires, of sparks and plugs,
and comforting assurances. Overhead
“red-eye” flights cross the moon, waning
as they are absorbed into other stars.

Sad to say, in this inky April moment,
the owl who seeks his mate, the peepers
likewise searching, the wind and even rain,
are lost in




Urban Poet

seeking the silence
I walk in the quiet woods
along the highway

window fan whirring
my refrigerator groans
I lie sleeplessly

the machines whisper
songs of noisy diligence
disturbing the peace

Sunday, April 27, 2008

too late to negotiate

wrap a schmatte round your head
scream you want to see me dead
peace is just a process, not
something we should think we've got
never happen, when a war
is what our "partners" all adore
fighting biting kicking scratching
the violence they've got is catching