Gloria (for Elizabeth Treadwell)

Gloria, go back to the beginning:
Gloria, in the woods, we're safe:
Gloria, who knows how to listen.



   The dream-glass breaks, black with tar, spit, and glitter

                                ash and grass drifting together

          a deer, a fox : : : the bee-buzz bird-saw

                                  drone and thrum


                       let it call you:        Gloria.
                             let it call you:          Home.

News

I have coco-fresh poems in the ever-awesome Coconut!

The Poetry Booth will be popping up around town this month. First stop, Paseo Nuevo courtyard this Thursday (April 4th) in downtown SB