Or perhaps there was a wound just above
his left temple. He would already have been
bleeding for several days. A knight at arms
wandering, disorientated by the wood smoke
smell of rain. Vomiting cheap whiskey.
In every sense a modern urban scene.
The way pavement shine where no birds
sing. Always easier to picture in hindsight
how truly mundane and comic is the soul
in pain. Things I read a long time
ago. Words I said a long time ago.
Rhodedendroms on the pallisade
no there was a real mystery
to my mind. A careless proximity.
Dear readers, this is my third book of poems, and inside are a special collection of what have turned out to be not only MY personal favorites, but also the favorites of many of YOU. Some of these have never been available in print before...