poems, mostly metrical, and rants and raves on poets, poetry, and the po-biz (with 8-string stuff)
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Posts from — December 2010

First Verse Composed Standing in the Heatless Shed 

My ears remind me that I have a hood,
And raising it, I realize my glasses,
Resting on my nose, are very good
Conductors for what little warmth still passes
Through my sclerotic veins—I really should
Go in before my blood becomes molasses.
What profit lies in finishing this verse
If by next week I’m riding in a hearse?

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December 11, 2010   2 Comments