Author Archives
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The cobra, become a museum piece, complains
Poem inspired, at least in part, by a visit to the Bronx Zoo My mother me and siblings warned, It could be hard to find a mate. An argument easy to make – The sharp of tongue: often lovelorn…. Read More ›
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Ballad of a nullfidian
Our buds are growing into earphones And still failing to protect us From noise and demands, requests or distress. Online I find a chemical protection suit with tape double-wrapped, And double storm flaps over zippered access, On top of… Read More ›
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They did this for any number of years
They did this for any number of years. She would tell him, often with tears, She was suffering—at her job, in her Personal life. He would say or try As diplomatically as possible . . . “Were it me, …. Read More ›
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The Drumming Circle, Woodstock
Featured here are a few of the many drawings I have made in some harmony with the drumming circle in Woodstock, New York. I have not been trying to “capture” the people in portraits, but to draw in rhythm with… Read More ›
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Along the side of the road I found a silver goblet which had been used as an ashtray
Dedicated to my mother, Lyle Warner, and to an up-and-coming young artist: Adelaine Muth Along the side of the road I found a silver goblet Which had been used as an ashtray. The local museum was holding… Read More ›
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Returning, remembering, regrets
Returning – the long flight to the capital, then to the beach The palm trees, the taxi, the dirt road, dogs asleep, The long benches and table warm in the shade of the house. Both of us, that irretrievable afternoon,… Read More ›
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What would Emily do?
A retirement poem? Or for Americans more generally? After Dickinson wrote two thousand poems and that didn’t quite work – Though, yes, it worked spectacularly for readers born after she died – After she had baked so many loaves… Read More ›
