Beauty is to feel truth,
truth to feel beauty.
Line my paraphrasing Keats.

de vermis nocturnus


Born at noon, razored out of rock, tile, or marble,
they spill forth noiselessly
from steaming maternal slits,
squirming under chairs, within stones,
behind you.

They grow, slithering from incandescent edge to edge,
temperaments hotter than their Stygian hues,
pushing the bounds of their cages,
which are never large enough.
They wax as day wanes;
by nightfall they're ready to cut loose.

The night worms hunger, ceaselessly;
what sustenance they find under, within, and behind

Alexander 356 BC - 323 BC;
J 19-- - 19--, great favour.

A group of students who, when they get up, leave rubbish on the ground for someone else to pick up after them, I watch their careless swerve into the distance, scattering laughter, noise. The hottest day it's been all year and still not April yet and, like an apogee, a crowd of girls are singing something sweet and out of tune beneath the blossoming trees. Hard to imagine summer when it's gone like some Bavaria, lost between the wars, now it's back, this demogogic sun, these bright dressed children marching over flowers, the whole world moving to a single beat, a shout, and, on the edge, th

wise to wait
but the peach grows overripe
and bitter

The Old Man Talks to His Wife On a Day He’ll Always Remember


The water is slow to warm this morning,
or perhaps I’m impatient
to get this day moving,
to get this day over
and done with.
Our mattress and covers entreat me,
but the world demands.

Tired of barn mice,
the tom curls around my ankles
as I toast the last loaf you made,
make too much bacon,
break eggs into the pan.
His old voice is kitten high
as he asks when I became cook.

I set your place on the table,
two rough sawhorses I made when we were younger

The moonlit night is the same
wrapped in the star-studded sky,
and the same clusters of flowers
swaying in the cool, fragrant breeze;

Still the same hapless heart
pining for you,
Everything seems to be the same…
then
Why didn’t you come?

The same gleaming stream
flowing languorously
and the same weeping willow
shedding tears relentlessly;

Still the same hurting heart
calling for you,
Everything seems to be the same…
then
Why didn’t you come?

What’s this life I am living?
My heart is drowning,

In Hawaii, the hula girls sway
in the tepid breezes under the palm trees.
I know you are not like those women
who have bronzed, perfectly shaped bodies,
but I know your skin cries out
for crystalline blue water.
You abandon the rigidness of city life,
wade out of the last five painful years,
the water tickling your ankles,
splashing your knees. 
You abandon yourself,
your arms beating like pelican wings.
Smiling, you immerse yourself
in the ocean’s warm water,
rinsing the smell of our sadness out of you.  

Too many emotions, but no suitable expressions Why do I constantly let myself be controlled by your actions Years of discussions, deliberations, negotiations But when I'm before you, I still can't round my arguments With my eyes closed, I can paint your features But I am never able to pin down your colors You are pulse beating continuously in me But I can never grasp the rhythm of your heartbeat You bring out the best version of me But it is also you that causes my ugly side to show easily I can never sleep without feeling your soft breath brushing my face gently But it is also in the

The evil comes in many forms -
in burnished steel and gold,
in eiderdown and silken gown,
in warm smiles that turn cold.

The evil comes in many forms -
in fragrance and in fear,
in suits and ties and peering eyes,
in false words we long to hear.

The evil comes in many forms -
in looking glass, convenience,
in glaring screens and jelly beans,
in professionals and governments.

The evil comes in many forms -
dare, look it in the eye;
in many forms but red with horns
less frequently than you and I.