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A portrait of the artist as a young museum
“You belong in a museum!” Just a homeless drunk’s proclamation, but she tended to agree. Then one day: prophecy fulfilled! She becomes a 1904, North Island Manse of the villa style (while next door,...
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Scudder’s
Crossing the threshold, musty air hinted at life as a sarcophagus. Rickety rabbit-warren staircases hobbled between lopsided rooms. It was no surprise when it burnt down. But what made it a poem, was...
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How do they respond?
How do they respond? that’s what she wanted to know. Eleven ton magnet hummed, participants brains’ activ- -ating to pictures of faces, numbers, objects, words. How did someone respond to her research...
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A boring death
Leaving town – two hours in a taxi, hand clamped to the passport compartment of my messenger bag. Late evening head nods and rolls, repeatedly I jerk awake. Check-in not yet open, weighed down with...
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A pedestrian argument
My feet disagree with the sun rays falling on auburn leaves. I stomp the dry, discarded, decay, until they crunch their confession – It is Autumn!
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Drugstore Buddha
(photocredit) Passing the beauty counter, gold and maroon, Drugstore Buddha. One hand clapping, lipstick swatched wrist, sprayed with perfume. Zen rituals, Zen koans, Drugstore Buddha, beauty counter...
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Turing Test
(Was the Turing Test solved by this thirteen year old?) Are my conscious thoughts merely the product of a Turing machine that has outwitted itself?
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Julian
(In memory of my old school friend’s brother). Just like his sister, blue eyes and rose bud lips. Pale skin limbs, after school flushed, pile in the back of Nan’s pea-green mini. We play in their Nan’s...
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She descends in sunshine
She sits in sunshine – not in her private room. Communal lounge an open space, fresh air filtering aging staleness, curtains straining light, a translucent membrane partitioning her internal present...
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A portrait of the artist as a young museum
“You belong in a museum!” Just a homeless drunk’s proclamation, but she tended to agree. Then one day: prophecy fulfilled! She becomes a 1904, North Island Manse of the villa style (while next door,...
View ArticleClik here to view.
Scudder’s
Crossing the threshold, musty air hinted at life as a sarcophagus. Rickety rabbit-warren staircases hobbled between lopsided rooms. It was no surprise when it burnt down. But what made it a poem, was...
View ArticleClik here to view.
How do they respond?
How do they respond? that’s what she wanted to know. Eleven ton magnet hummed, participants brains’ activ- -ating to pictures of faces, numbers, objects, words. How did someone respond to her research...
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