More on: Poetry

Caesar, highest, / seated where Caesar sits, the granite drape / of his vermilion cape, and there beneath it / Caesar’s bare breast

In the myth, Adam, the man, labors above / warm red earth, voracious earth that takes / the life it gives into itself, as soon replenishes… / What have we done, or what through us was done?

I recorded the pet ouroboros / ate / bookended / möbius stripped / just had an all-around
naked voiced weekend.

“Truth and justice are two points so fine that our instruments are too blunt to touch them exactly” —Pascal

Just imagine how it must be for the maker, the mind / behind creation who weaves it all together in an expansive act of love

Micah Bateman channels T.S. Eliot, slantwise. “In the room the women come and go / Talking of Leo DiCaprio.”

I need / a blessing and I am not blessed.

On the decay of flowers. “I love the way they teach me to love / the things I can’t get close enough to.”

Perhaps all these / years God has denied me / the little grace / I hoped for in preparation / for the larger / one

“The old / cars had iron, the new, light aluminum / alloy, chromium, even plastic. / My father-in-law with Alzheimer’s walking / along Highway 6 to flag a semi.”