There was a man
who sat at the corner
bus stop.
Beside him was
a paper bag with cups
in it.
Why does he sit
at the corner bus stop
staring?
He is alone,
without a home to go
home to.
What does he see
sitting at the bus stop
alone?
He sees nothing.
There is nothing at all
to see.
Sometimes I feel
like the man at the cor-
ner stop.
Remember that story about the Old Man I’ve mentioned a couple of times now? Well, here’s a more complete reconstitution. I think it still needs some work and, of course, my memory of the first story probably puts it on a pedestal it never inhabited, but this is pretty good anyway. The Old Man I…
Written in 1983. The wooden chips float to the floor at each stroke of the blade. The gnarled, old hands shape the stick of wood with an expertise only acquired with time. The metamorphosis of the wood is slow and subtle. but as time progresses a figure seems to come alive. A figure of an…
Written July 25, 1987. She sits there eating stick pretzels as if they were cigarettes. She holds them between her pointing and middle finger. She brings them up to her mouth and takes a bite. She rolls the bite teasingly with her tongue as she stares at her imaginary opponent. In her mind she plays…
This poem was written Feb. 16, 1991. I suddenly had an image of a light purple rose lying on a pillow and created this. One Violet Rose laid upon my pillow as I came waltzing in on a string of a thought a wish My love, Thank you for your kisses Thank you for your…
Another in the series of love poems I wrote in 1988. My love, like the wind, flows through all. My love, like the ocean, encompasses a large expance. My love, like the sun, warms me through and through. My love, like sand, is infinite, or seemingly so. My love, my lover, my everything … where…
Written Feb. 15, 1991. Feed me I’m hungry Hungry for Knowledge Love Understanding Am I a gaping wound or a black hole? The analogy is moot when compared to my hunger my need my desire Help me I’m drowning drowning in an ocean of famine of frustration of possible ignorance You hold the food that…
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