Sometimes I work into the night.
I murder every rhyme on sight
As other to my thought until
I’m left alone with naked will.
Haiku
just that daffodil
against a sun-bleached wooden fence
and all shall be well
Haiku
Blustery Spring day
A bird flies out the window
of this condemned house
Epigram: Confession
Epigram or haiku, I am partial
To the short forms that rhyme with Martial.
Epigram: Epitaph
Here lies a distinguished Formalist
Who wanted us to understand
The world not of the open hand
But the closed fist.
Onionskinaphorism
An image is a raveled narrative.
Metaxyturn Diaries 