Poetry


Snatches of the Dream

Papa Hat
—to have love,
to feel love,
to hold love,
to make love,
to make use of love,
to know love,
to magnify love,
and yet
never to fall
in—
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Ancestor Worship

Papa Hat
Always I have kept a Special Box,
a box made Special by the items inside
flowing with Meaning and Memory.

The Box itself has changed, moved
from house to house—
admittedly
it has always been made of cardboard
and admittedly
along the away I threw some Special items
into the …
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Loving Enemies

Wolfenstein 3D, player aiming gun at Nazis
Thich Nhat Hanh may be wrong
on one point—there is a use
for everything, a way to transmute anything
in your mind
using the Philosopher's Stone
of mindfulness, even violent

video games.
To practice this, look down and see
an assault rifle in your hand, look up and see …
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Hunger

Black bear
How could it be
this powerful, this animal, or
how did I not know of it
till now? There are many monsters,
many types
of people—I've never understood

vampires with their stable schedules
of predation, zombies moaning for brains
right out in public, recognizable,
ghosts no longer blooded, living …
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Ordained

Dead fern in snow
When the poets of old
wrote of star-crossed lovers
they were partly right
and partly wrong
due to a tragedy of scope and scale
and obsession with particular causality,
working backwards
or worse, forwards—
while stars like these ordain the just-rightness
of you and me, it could have been
any …
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