Author Information
Whip in Hand Eyes Closed
You'll find me
in books
on the top shelf unread and thirsty
casting the fish to the streets
scattering jubilant metaphor
wordless serene
without looking
swallowed by crowds
rubbernecked
naked in springtime a gale
of thirsty blackbirds
When grizzled men pass wisdom
Withering bottles full of madness
Sit up take notes
Put the eternal cascade
The puzzle litany
Put the wilder harmony in the lee of soul
Where you'll find me
sorting the mail
buying the bums bottles
filling the tacklebox
with hooks of silent gazes
flesh made wind
sultry fiction finding your dreams
whipping them ever onward
