Archives for September 2005


I, the forgotten, rejected, the Great Unwanted,
unwelcomed, unmissed in departing, in loss unlamented,
I who have walked in the umbras of wasted seasons,
dwelt in the midden of others’ discarded lessons,
for none of my betters would taste the nauseous wisdom —
only the dying take medicine, and they but seldom,
for attar of funeral roses is sweeter solace —
I, I alone, know such thirst as to drink from that chalice.  [Read more…]

Scribbles found in a margin

Between the light of purposed action
   and the darkness of the deed,
a shadow falls. All life is faction:
      man and master, fat and lean,
   mother’s love and daughter’s need,
ungrateful as the worm affection
      bred. A shadow falls between
   a poet’s lips and ears that heed. [Read more…]