Improvisation on a train
On a red sore train I wonder what I will leave Behind when I am gone…
Poem: The state of politics
Poetry and politics make for strained companions. The politics of poets is unreliable, inclined to the…
Poem: Nouriel’s Shoes
The following poem is from my Burning Archive collection. It had its origins in a strategic…
An accidental tourist
Here is a poem of mine from about a year ago. When the wind blows from…
Waste books and epigrams
“The excuses we make to ourselves when we want to do something are excellent material for…
Commuting fragments
My ride is half an hour Beside me, left and right, Private conversations Blown to the…
Five Bells
A simple post of appreciation. What endures? What survives the oven flames? What is left behind…
Hannah Arendt and remembering thought
After listening to an episode of the On Being podcast, titled Thinking and Friendship in Dark…
Impermanence
There are fragments of songs from my youth stirring. Not lyrics, but angry frustrated declamations. No…
Error is in control
The mind errs. My mind errs. The mind slips from its own grasp. The mind believes…