1 the past draped about us like a cloak after Diana Khoi Nguyen poems breed poems, as we breed children of our own and throw them to the future as we hide ourselves in the accumulation of story, of facts and images assembled and assessed…

There’s a cost either way. One road left, another right. One takes you up, the other down. You must choose. For now. Later you can circle back and try the other. If it’s still there. Either way You’ll find beauty, growth, expanse, adventure. Open your…

Opening ceremony so many new faces       so few old and recognizable ones.  The past rushing forward      slamming into us with a vengeance.  This is how she found us       “the past draped about us like a cloak.” (after Diana Khoi…

That’s Sports Just before the last cliche-laden interview Before tens of thousands left the arena as the winning score sends them ecstatic and broke into the evening Before great and televised struggle of elite athletes and millionaire buddies Before the bad call by the bad…

I wish I knew the name Of the tree that shaped my youth With her soft, crumbling bark And long, strong branches Leading me up, up, up Like stairs of an ivory tower   Escaping into her arms With never any fear for my safety…

Hour 1 Tanka Good morning to you, Good morning, how do you do, The sun is shining, You woke up, it’s a new day, Be gracious in every way.

We made an undulating landscape on the floor after the hard week our bedraggled bodies propped on sofa pillows plates of barely recognized food stuff in varying degrees of consumption two roaming dogs attempting to lick plates clean Around us sharp angles of squares and…

shove the babe who leapt  that nest that fed the fire that boiled  the pot that scorched the girl that squeezed  her heart which broke the bearings that fixed  the home

Lights in the city are hung from chains The quiet bound with voices. We step between the shadowed parks Blind spots in a panopticon where Uncaught by luminescent breath We flee. There is a bridge across the night But it is garlanded with stars To…

Weave silvery strings of moonlit inspiration Into nocturnal tapestries   Drape them over raw thoughts, memories, ideas… Smoothing the jagged edges of consciousness Into Poetic form Or at least attempting… Pulling illumination from the darkness behind stars   Words of wistful wisdom woven into the…