#AmericanWriters
O Wave God who broke through… Sea Bream massive pink and silver cool swimming down with me watchin… staying away from the spear
Ah to be alive on a mid-September morn fording a stream barefoot, pants rolled up, holding boots, pack on,
We finished clearing the last Section of trail by noon, High on the ridge-side Two thousand feet above the creek Reached the pass, went on
The sour smell, blue stain, water squirts out round the wedge, Lifting quarters of rounds covered with ants,
“O hell, what do mine eyes with grief behold?” Working with an old Singlejack miner, who can sense The vein and cleavage
I went into the Maverick Bar In Farmington, New Mexico. And drank double shots of bourbon backed with beer. My long hair was tucked up under a…
Owl calls, pollen dust blows Swirl of light strokes writhing knot-tying light paths,
He had driven half the night From far down San Joaquin Through Mariposa, up the Dangerous Mountain roads, And pulled in at eight a.m.
Beat-up datsun idling in the road shreds of fog almost-vertical hillsides drop awa… huge stumps fading into mist soft warm rain
He crawls to the edge of the foami… He backs up the slab ledge He puts a finger in the water He turns to a trapped pool Puts both hands in the water
Out there walking round, looking o… a rootstock, a birdcall, a seed th… plucking, digging, snaring, snaggi… barely getting by, no food out there on dusty slopes…
the Great Sun Buddha in this corner of the Infinite Void gave a Discourse to all the assembled elements and energies: to the standing beings, the walking beings, the flying beings, and ...
At the last turn in the path “goodbye—” —bending, bowing, (moss and a bit of wild
One granite ridge A tree, would be enough Or even a rock, a small creek, A bark shred in a pool. Hill beyond hill, folded and twist…
Washing Kai in the sauna, The kerosene lantern set on a box outside the ground-level window, Lights up the edge of the iron sto… washtub down on the slab