Betide Me

For the occasion of National Poetry Month, and getting to use fancy words. Betide me, O titanous waves, that subsume vessels to watery graves (we benthic slaves). Beclothe me, O swathing light, a star-quantum bound for earthen delight (paradox in flight). Befall me, O radiant wind, and topple the proud mightly with (your aeolian din).… Read more Betide Me

Slow West

The refrain from Thomas Hood’s nineteenth century poem “The Haunted House” stands out not only because it appears about halfway through Slow West, John Mclean’s darkly funny reverie of a western, but because its final line—“The place is Haunted!”—breaks the iambic pentameter the poem employs throughout the rest of its eighty-five stanzas. Such a break jars… Read more Slow West

Poetry in the Park

I was in a park and saw some things so I wrote a poem about them. What sends the human heart dreaming? A girl, little with frizzy hair, asked sweetly, Did he have to put a knife in his heart? Her mother said no, and that was all. A woman, grown, hobbled on one crutch… Read more Poetry in the Park

Get Open And Wait

Get open and wait— And suddenly the world becomes clear. Like a sunbeam across a prairie The atmosphere cracks and shouts a violent hello. A burning yellow rainbow— light itself enlightened. We seek illumination in our days; we crowd them still with noble desires of seeing the sunset once again. Just one more time.