Beside the House of Worship

Like every poem I blog, this is a draft poem in progress. But this one I’m pretty certain will make it into the next book. It came almost entirely on it’s own. I was trying to write something else, at a terrific workshop with WA-state poet laureate,...

Low Tide

Salt thick drips beneath the pier dark wet hangs in air humid with seaweed exhausted and driftwood damp parts, body, of crabs eaten recently left by birds pirate who gorge themselves crabbing out of season without license barnacles shake themselves from nose to tail...

Ballad of a Flirty Captain

I accept responsibility for floating adrift at sea everything else I ascribe to luck Life’s not controlled by me. I fell in love with Mystery first who often visits here to experience her argument for wonder over fear. I fell in love with Magic next brought...

If women were pirates

If women were pirates ships would smell of jasmine in summer cinnamon in winter rain in the springtime Pirate hats would be more fabulous Treasure would be friendship and children and loving this moment And booty Oh, that booty would be shakin to the music Every god...

Help wanted: poet

Work begins with fed cat on the windowsill with butt in chair   Ears to be perpetually tuned to TWBS, the wind and bird station even during the big meeting especially within the mundane   Good work for pirates with tied tongues and agile fingers who delight in looking...