Searing light of a supermoon

fades into Tuesday afternoon

Cuts you off at the knees

Watch you dying by degrees

The clouds will part with the rain

Prepares you for that Wednesday pain

of waking yet another day

when no one listens anyway




At Cajamarca, upon high Incan plain

came Pizarro from his Lord in Spain

His advantage came with surprise

even more from deceitful lies

of a mighty King, divine and just

and salvation for Atahuallpa’s trust

The Incas numbered eighty-thousand strong

Still the Spaniards did not take long

In numbers fewer than ten score

they charged ahead and into war

Atahuallpa’s capture for a ransom hold

Spill their blood and steal their gold

By horse and by sword

With strange god and written word

These strangers came to erase

any memory of their race

Take as they want, no need to ask

then leave their germs to complete the task

Anonymous returns

rooftops covered white with snow

innocent in brilliant blue light

the steam exhaust of the wool coat parade

they scurry from door to door

this place in time

remains the same

as seasons pass in endless succession

strange shadows now haunt

once familiar door frames

retracing footsteps

i remain unseen



Just a game to you, isn’t it?

There is no longer a background

it’s all been erased

Now only the foreground

and it’s bitter foretaste

We’ve abandoned the field

left others to play

There are no heroes left

to carry the day

Only third string players

better left in reserve

If you’ll settle for less

get what you deserve

The embittered contest

is ever the same

Perhaps time to consider

just ending this game


Schiller Park, March ’82


End of hibernation

Begin year three after

the long nights anguish

for a direction

March demands action

absent malice aforethought

With all else uncharted

only geography to explore

Somewhere better than this

Veil of cloud

and damp ever present

The Poet’s visage not like today

Grey statuary forgotten

Eyes blank, imitate the dead

No counsel or inspiration

Only realization

Despite all efforts

my feet not set in stone

Someone better than this

No monument can follow

where my steps lead away

Sentries in stone keep their place

Only watch as you leave

for somewhere better than this

Thursday Afternoon: reflections on Eno


Warm and bright as insects hum

Vibrate subsonic

Ten billion wings aflutter

The air itself shivers

in light and positive ions

Gentle cushion for the descent

of leaves crimson and amber

The ground soft and warm

The night’s first kiss of frost

melts with the day

So we may yet pretend

in light

A day does not end

merely passes in the commute

to dim Friday morning memory

While somewhere in the universe

it remains

Thursday afternoon forever