windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::

Category: poem

solstice

taking a break from writing my holiday cards raccoons chatter beneath the pines as i smoke, the rain seeps in through worn-out shoe-soles i just can’t give them up

gender and number

in all matters of interpretation of this instrument, whenever necessary to give effect to any provision of this instrument, the masculine shall include the feminine and neuter, and vice versa, the singular shall include the plural, and the plural shall include the singular.

pissing in the ocean

to all my relations: i hear you- (in the trains that call to one another; in the leaves, tenacious, yellowing; in the car horns)- and offer my breath to the choir

the folks

the masters were wise. they waited for insight to write their poems. i’m not so patient. i see the moon, reflected in the river, and race to describe the cicadas that tickle my eardrums

events

if you only read poems that others think are famous it’s like watching tv to learn about life most of what’s important’s not exciting the moon: not half-empty, not half-full