That Came, Not Chosen 7 a.m. sungold flings photons from mountaintop across the river yesterday’s snow clings to a hedge of arbor vitae’s shadowgreen just as Mom’s flour dusted the tools of her art upon the table sifter, spatula, cups and spoons as if a painting of an arctic fable her baked art emerges from…

Lush Misunderstanding —of an interview with Jane Goodall _____________________________________ life from dying comes —life after life: a ballet of treed chimps, a great defining roar, a thin thread lost where are you, father? (a name I never called you, I called you, Dad) yet there it is: father half-ground of my issue, half-ground of my being,…

“I don’t think I ever was a child.”                     –Coleman Hawkins, top sax jazzman Jazzman Said I don’t think I ever was a child Was I a child? I don’t think— If I ever was a child I’d know.  …..I don’t. I don’t even know, jazzman said,…

Autistic —for Danny, 1949-1976 When you caught that bird in flight, that was a wild moment, the reflex of it, as if you’d had the mind and eyes of a hawk, as if in your world, mysterious to us all, mother father sisters brothers— as if in that world you flew above less bewildered than…

Having Coffee i’m having coffee i’m dreaming I’m having coffee with Whistler’s mother i’m out of the frame to the left meeting her gaze i’m scratching a knuckle with my nose i’m not listening to my wife while gazing out a window i’m imagining our small distant sun rising over the horizon of Neptune i’m having coffee   —paper…

Uroboros new year, end day of a beginning, two limits of an endless rope, sunup/sundown, the day we split infinity that lazy 8 napping on its side as time goes by, the day we draw a deep breath in belief that its undulant line may really be broken regardless of the will of a universe…

Temporal Christmas the verge of something new— solstice, sunrise, a comet coming through, sometimes it seems that angels tend, stars align, low meets high—- even ass and oxen gain a sense that mutual otherness has been pretense, a tale begins that glorifies the plain, low things are magnified: a snowball rolls through time, gathers rituals, books, saints, gains velocity, and multitudes…

Gabriel’s Mad Ave. Apocalyptic Horn …. “I’m still dwelling on how ironic all the feverish proclamations of capitalism …. are going to look someday.”  —Justin E. H. Smith, Philosopher I’m through with dumpster dinners at the corner of Wall Street and New I’m so unsold by the Coke sign’s faded blush that thrusts from desiccated…

Woke up, fell out of bed, Dragged a comb across my head Found my way downstairs and drank a cup, And looking up I noticed (it) was late ………………—John Lennon, A Day in the Life Mystical Fun Jim Culleny 9/14/16

A Question of Necessity “Can you tell me a certain thing that is a moral fact?” is a specious question because the fact of the thing exists as something essential to the survival of homo sapiens in creating civilization, though civilization does not always live up to the necessity of its essential thing.(the root of what…

“Facts are surprisingly delible things.” ………….— Bill Bryson, author “Trump won.” ……….…— Fox Skews Facts Are Delible facts are not indelible after all— imagine that now U S headspace is one of delibility, if such a word exists —but of course it may, nothing moors every word to dictionaries: fresh definition embraced, case closed. now…

Drinking It All In a long way up Bray Road past the point where the first of two small brooks cross beneath it came to me in a new way that you and I are still breathing four decades after we met at the threshold of the unknown, the part that comes after now, and…

Walking overlooking a river rife with history that runs along the bottom of an ancient gorge between two mountains autumn rusts. in yellows, russets, remnant greens, drapes of leaves cascade down their opposing slopes liquid as runoff, colors sluiced into the wide wet rush of that streaming source of being boiling white over rocks tumbling…

Nothing But Light reflections stutter in the picture plane as if Vincent were still alive dragging oils across canvas in French light inhaling the color of things expiring his incandescent translations in spectacular conjugations of frequencies setting fire to a field with crows turning night into pinwheels, vibrations underpinning everything in sight nothing still but…

Show Moon look out your window, the moon is huge! though not bigger than life, smaller than that but big enough to have life take a look and admire a midnight sun with hint of rouge upheld in a mosh-pit of trees bare limbs a dark mesh beyond a field upon a sky of blue-grey…

Reply to Ricardo who wrote: How U b? .I b well enough. work’s fairly regular— ’bout 4-5 hours a day at regular pay, plus a couple of side jobs drawing, lucky to have work chug chug keep my hand in the writing game: blogs, two local paper gigs shooting my mouth off at greedy vampire windmills sucking…

Looking Up the horizon circle, past which I can see no further in any direction other than up, hems me in, but looking up I can see forever or as far as lightspeed allows or until more time passes or, more truly, until now shifts again, but by then I will have passed, whatever that…

  Galleon America the complexity of your crossed purposes, beauty and war, grace and wastefulness, you rest solidly at sea upon a liquid without yet dropping through, a steel log with algorithmic spurs hollow inside of rust and rot, a contradiction, weighty and weightless, floating white swan, Earth burns, black pawns, Jesus weeps, Mars is gloating…

Too Thin to Spawn an Echo from here the atmosphere is space so vast its depth’s enough to spawn an echo, but seen from the moon imagine a somewhat fat elastic band stretched round a blue ball, or slim mist of sweat evaporating from the crown of a head still clear enough to spawn an…

Where Buddha Is I thumb down the stack of books: Paper Dance—55 Latin Poets Poetry Like Bread (full as loaves my mother made) subtitled Poets of the Political Imagination and here’s Billy Collins Sailing Alone Around the Room—which is pretty much what we all do to a great extent until, at the bottom: Precise V-5…