An Ink Drawing, Azamino, Japan

- Azamino, Japan, 2009

A Poem, The Precipice

The Precipice

On a precipice
staring at what
I’ve left behind
(although it might
be what’s to
come or an
imaginary downfall product
of a barrage
of statements,
and suggestions,
and suspicions
that we’re all
alone, and it’s
up to you
whether you fall
fail or get-over
the hastily built
rope bridge with
so many missing
planks it’s hardly
worth trying to
pass), and an
Inuk Chuk stands
on the other side.

It looks like Jesus.

I passed out
before the precipice
woke-up and dawn.
Things were the
same. The Jesus
Inuk Chuk stood
histrionic and static.
I stared at
it while the
sun made shadows
grow on the
planks of the
rope bridge. Hunger
came and went
then came again.
It grew cold.
I was tired.
I did not
walk forward but
turned my back
on the Inuk
Chuck, avoiding grace,
plodding downcast, more
confused than ever,
towards my home.

A Poem, Doing

Doing

Reading E.P. Thomspon's
The Making of the English Working Class,
Sitting in the
Standard Life financial planning headquarters,
Waiting to teach English
to an Egyptian fifty year old,
Planning a coffee date
with a friend who won't show up,
Stressing about an obnoxious
argument with another,
Hoping for
something to say,
Praying for
direction,
Missing
clarity,
Living.

Two Haikus: Four Months Later, Homeless,

Four Months Later
Time continues mute
conversations swirl around
our friend is still dead.

Homeless
I know there's beauty
somewhere while I'm in the shit
Oil drum fireplace night.

A Drawing, Chess

- Chess, 2010