I am waiting for Bernard. He should have been here at 10:30, and it's already 10:32. Something is wrong. Bernard is never late. When I'm even a tiny bit slow in getting to our daily game, Bernard has ... [+]
Mountain Nose: International Voluntary Services/VN, ’68-’69, II-III Corps, as orphanage shop instructor, supply delivery, and recon. Member Poets West Society. "Indiana at 3 a.m." was given Honorable Mention in Short Edition's America: color it in. Contest, summer 2020.
In the morning night When streetlight shadows Scramble rat-ways Under parked cars And rain, down pipes, Taps the pavement Like an impatient date, Then radio music, Drifting memory-thin Over rural roads, Sputters at its edges And freight trucks Swish the overpass, Their beams streaking Above my windshield: A caravan of comets.