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A journey into the surreal...

Sometimes nothing happens when the blue of dark stares past these eyes, into my bones, and paints vague ‘scapes indistinc..

When I close my eyes, I can hear the smoke and sand of your voice, and I think of how it was in that genesis when everything ..

Those quantum people have everythingin an uproar. I recently read they say the pastis as indeterminate as the future. And where does that leav..

There was a time when people waited for poets to publish another tome, sought them out in book stores and periodicals. Later, in the pub the..

The long road makes slow curls around the floor of the valley on its way to the highway. This morning’s leisurely ride past preca..

Some vultures gathered at the bookstore to eat some road-kill poetry over in the art section, but that was OK because no one was listening..

Rain dimples the water under furled sails; the gentle rise and fall of the hull is a quiet bass drum to echo like distant thunder. ..

There were savage cowboys and wild Indians, when my grandparents were born. Texas cattle, the steel plow and steam were all the rage. ..

Exactly how long is now? The existential question. I burn my finger and some time later my brain says “Oh S**t.” It ..