and with that, he put the ember out in the center of his palm, a pain to be carried everywhere. A momento to the nonversation, to half-listening, and to feigned interest. A small simulacra of the mutual, the mentholated, the swirling smoke staining the ceiling in benign passing of time. A manilla mask of desire. A tonguing soreness, piqued at will with the wringing of hands -- a ringing informed b...

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Third Beach

This is the sunny place my spirits rest

Sat on a wooden bench watching the sea

The shimmer from the bright pacific west

The only place on earth I long to be.

The walkers and the cyclists passing by

Upon the wide and welcoming sea wall

The seagulls and crows desperately try

To out call the other in pine trees tall.

I watch the tankers in the distance drif...

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totem

maple wood smoke

drifts across the pine

and firs curling

into Inuit ghosts

that pace stealthily

from tree to tree

towering totems carved with bird

wolf bear and snakehead

calling to the old gods

that we were here

we lived and died in these

ancient forests

silver river slit...

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