feather_father_

my first attempt at a video poem

mimicry

a habitat threshed with willows
where a hawk spooled slow
and the yellow disc hovered
as if almost a half-moon
eye over winter-water
switching to where bird-caged
your fingers and your red
hair and how I'd forgotten
until the white bars emerged
composed by marsh grass
and the light was as the light
you reined around you
in the bone-blue of summer
that blue scarf and how
I noticed the bird-call slipped
against the silver coins
as I realized how very long
your hair had grown
since we left

chatterbox

I'm terza rima, and I talk and smile. Where others lock their rhymes and thoughts away I let mine out, and chatter all the while. I'm rarely on my own - a wasted day Is any day that's spent without a friend, With nothing much to do or hear or say. I like to be with people, and depend On company for being entertained; Which seems a good solution, in the end. What Poetry Form Are You?

Flag

Will my bear paws
be enough to hold
the wire, the quiver
whip unlaced to make
an orb. See how it
twines where fabric
waists wither
into threadless
needles. Chiffon
sunset or caned
cords tethering
fur to feather.

O, my teeth--
I fear I will use them.

good reading

I'm going to start making posts about what I like to read.

So far, I've really enjoyed reading this. it's by ofelia hunt. I think "ofelia hunt" is a really great name.

I like just about everything over at bear parade. good stuff over there.

that's all.

Webs

I didn't mean
to do it: satin
mast where
there should
be rain, baby
winters in thin
rows seeding
the fringe, oracle
of closed things
chiming when
it shouldn't sing.
Yet your pointer

ticks in stained
mocking: hand
spread as a blade
without its bone.

playing with paper

oracle

a well was made
that was also
an opening, a push
through for plastic
funnels, test tubes
twined as wristlets
loosen cells like looking
glasses: a tunnel
for studying
where glued wings
ply looms
with thrumming: rushes.

Fly

what was eaten
resembled what
was mended: fence,
pick-axe, shovel
where two skins
meet. wing-buzzed
the blue boned
mouths, muzzles
of wonder
the iron disc
saucers winding
rainbows as ribs
bind ventricle to vane.


[extra words: pillow, bars, iron]

baby heart fly

saw_made_took

held_saw_ felt

afterthought

where the good was something
you could saw in two
as if the sky could
saw itself in two.

I pulled a string
and remembered the mending
knot, the place where two
braids became unknown.

A barn where floss
in known as mirror, where hay
pulls blood to its mouth
and ovens flood.

Bridle, mistress: no gold
leaf save for that you make
from meat, from vertabrae
unbound --

die*o*rama diptych

websites that are pretty, interesting and/or odd: kelp cam, web tarot, miniature world, feral children

die*o*rama

down my soft part

our clean heart

February

Where two girls make a seam
A yellow war unzips.
Or where two ducks on a brown
Pond become two dogs
Cast in bronze, galloping
Beneath the halo of a yellow lamp.

Where a hole in the wall
Revealed the doll house
Occupied by lost parents.
Where the feathered headdress
Is worn to hear the ash
Describe its former life.

There is no winter there, only
An unloaded shallow.
No glass barrel where
Scissors snipped and wooed
The barren into lumber—
A million knots and hollows
Opened up --

currents

when I want
what you want
you want what
I want. Do I have
what you want?
Do you have
what I want?
Do I want
what you have?
Do you want
what I have?
Do you have
what I want?
Do I have
what you want?

Article about Daphnomancy in Kitchen Sink

All hail Kitchen Sink. a very cool publication involving the efforts of many cool people. They need help because their distributor, IPA, shut down. Read more about it here: www.kitchensinkmag.com/
























awesome cover art by Andrew Schoultz
























really cool illustration
to go with the piece;
the photos were taken
be chris cogburn
and the illo is by Nicole Neditch

p r i n t s

"I hated being a teenager"

Marquee Shuffle

dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar

b o n e b o n e b o n e b o n e b o n e
dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar

b o n e b o n e b o n e b o n e b o n e
dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar

b o n e b o n e b o n e b o n e b o n e
dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar dollar

b o n e b o n e b o n e b o n e b o n e

great friday reading

Mairead Byrne's SOS @ ubu

from my whole heart I withered

bird update:

washed one of these today. they make a floating nest! how cool. this was its third washing. we hope s/he is waterproof now. s/he was oiled pretty badly. like the coot, the grebe has lobed toes. lobed toes are magical. also washed a murre who looks like a little penguin. the cold weather has made the pelicans and cormorants especially hungry. snowy plover docent training on saturday.