Poetry

    My Silk Sonnets I move my arms slowly through the air, And imagine them as something spindly, Something wild and wondrous, Do I romanticize myself? Very...

    1 Are we, or are we not? Are we, or are we not alone? How can you hide from what is always in you? How can the rain...

  Gabriel Rosenstock’s Tanka Series – 5   1. will You forever remain hidden appearing and disappearing as some noonday moon            mistaken for a cloud    ...

    A House called Sorrow Sorrow is a house, its walls painted yellow and ceiling green with fungus. It has many rooms, from melancholy and pain to anguish and...

  Delta Between me and my poem, lines we wanted to tell each other, but never did. Lines we never wanted to utter, but always did. People we dreamt...

  A Shadow I am a woman of soft auburn dreams/ a soft noise that appears after a thunder/ you wish to dissolve my nectar into...

    Women One woman walks in a hurry sobbing, A house with faded paint on her head. One woman goes on waiting at A railway station where no...

  Gabriel Rosenstock’s Tanka Series – 4   1. the flower seller is left  with her flowers I am left with my poems                ...

  Gunsmoke Corralled in Mama’s car for church, scratch paper in our pockets for a showdown of Hangman with my brother, the fragrance of Juicy Fruit wafts out from her open...

  The Lone Transmuter On most days she is soft curled Medusa her locks big animated S-es insistent question marks buoyant ends curving into snake-eyed C-s inky chocolate in the shade haloed red...