Saturday, September 29, 2012


You sneaky leaves, I'm catching on
To your attempt to flatter me

The colors, all so vibrant, that you flaunt
Are soothing sights to see

And don't pretend your innocence;
I've caught all those autumnal scents
Of rot and wet and loveliness
That follow in your footsteps

You sneaky trees, I'm catching on
To your attempt to captivate

Your branches slowly paring down
Towards nudity, they herald late
(The end of summer sun)

And don't pretend you didn't know
Your limbs are starting all to show
I saw you lately, letting go
Of all the leaves that hid you so


These scissors are indelicate things
Ignoring the fine lines I suggest that it follows
Interpreting sideways and frontwards, I swallow
It's decisions
As only a helpless man can

A divot;
It's only
A trivial thing
But only perfection
Not constant correction
The product
That I want to see

Thursday, September 6, 2012


Missoula and Seattle and Tacoma and the mountains,
You places that I'd fit in my pocket, if I could.
The Sound and the Clark Fork and and the rivers that come off it,
The waters that I'd love to linger near
Are sadly far, and far away from here.

 The people that live in and near around you
Are dearer than the features of this coast:
The rolling hills and fluffy trees,
Mosquitos, spiders, fruit flies, bees,
Are much more prevalent than I expected;
The bugs, they bug enough to misdirect a tired rhyme.

 You, and you, and you, and you, I miss.