Hour Five Memories tucked into my breast pocket left and close to my heart. They flutter like eyelids just waking from slumber- fractured images play upon the screen of thought a tribute to remembrance to lives previously lived during my years on the back roads….

Got lost today Hopefully to find a new way A way through darkness To the light A way that flowers grow Swaying in the wind   I left prepared for the journey Everything I thought if needed Would be within arms reach Now I’m here…

I had a dream of A’Tuin The great turtle flying through space I peered over the edge and over again, The underside of the disc Expecting desolation A smooth platform to ease the labors Of four colossal elephants spinning Our great disc Instead it was…

Hour Four Outlining plans with graphite tracing the intent- gradients of charcoal delineate from our preconceived form an insult to our potential. Our attempts to take over and mold over the wire mesh construction- half-hearted clay structure unassuming to the crack from the heat of…

Victims wash up against the shore from upturned boats making summer passage on quieter tides. The dead are blamed, perpetrators of their own demise, whilst the reasons for their leaving lie unquestioned, uninvestigated. Who would leave their home and family? No-one’s asking.     Author:…

  It’s early Too early And there’s still too much to do And there’s still so much I can’t get through But we’re on to new beginnings And soon to some place new Just need to pack one last thing Okay one or two… The…

Hour Three 1:23 Layers droop precariously from form like draperies obscuring the world from the frame I had held like photograph- with peeling laminate ironed over like wax paper leaves and never comes back. The covers fall from mattresses skirting the hardwood floors methylene chloride…

They say the small town life is the quiet life And word travels fast when something happens out here But now that someone’s missing, someone’s murdered, and something’s been stolen Everyone is claiming an alibi or to be in the clear Now mister Buffet, eager…

The End   How will you see my life at the end Will you see me as helpful and kind As one on whom you knew you’d depend Or someone erased from your mind Will you think of me and remember some purpose Some time…

The earth is a sleeping pig, stinking, boiling, blunted, blinking, sourly computing every sound in the blinding quiet.   The earth is a precious child. We must attend to every sigh. Rien de plus … There is nothing more or else or other. No other…