Dear Bob: Though the maps may superimpose
their abject separateness upon the thousands of miles
between us with traditional lettered-&-numbered-grids;
& though your birth into this timeline sixty years ago
graced the cosmos just shy of twelve earth-years
(also known as a full cycle of the Chinese zodiac)
before mine, I dare say that you & I are timeless—
certainly no less so than those archaic dragons
whose subterranean nests we are to extrapolate
from the fumaroles erupting at the maps' folds.
Of course, such implications of fierceness
can seem forbidding…
But for all the scaly terror of their talons
& spiky tails quaintly curled around caches
of sapphires, emeralds & gold medallions,
what those beasts are best known for
is interminable slumber, whereas we are wide awake—
besides, however notoriously considerable
our sundry existential concerns tend to be,
no one would fault us dogs for not knowing
our way home!
Long before I even knew I knew you,
something in me knew you were my One,
which is how I know I will find my way to your arms,
where I will remain yours forever, Stephanie.
My poem “We Have Seen the Corn” is now live in Issue #27 of Riggwelter Press! I’m grateful to editor Jonathan Kinsman for selecting this piece, and honored to have my work bringing up the rear of this terrific collection of short prose and poetry.
(Switch into full-screen when you open the issuu file, and everything will come into beautiful focus!)
My poem,“Salt,”(just scroll down)is live at the Songs of Eretz Poetry Review, the “love” issue, just in time for Valentine’s Day! Many thanks to editors Steve Gordon and Terri Lynn Cummings for sensitively engaging with and selecting this piece for publication.
My poem, “In Praise of Reason,” has been published in Panoply’s themed (“untamed”) and first-ever contest issue! I’m thrilled to have my poem appear with Robert Okaji’s contest-winning effort, and I’m grateful to editors Jeff, Ryn, and Andrea for selecting my work!
Reach for me, for I am not made of this fleshy shell; I am deeper.
Reach to the beyond-bone of me, to the warm & ancient dark of me.
Find where all my unsaying resides & swells nameless, & with your tongue, teach me to speak. Reach into the buried of me, stoke & survey the embers of my death-preceded devouring, score my borders, & till my soil nitrogenous.
Then let me be a sieve for your waters, & for the salt of your deep, the belly of hope.