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After Goya


In the end / the dead parade:

Harnessed one behind the other like a string

of perch & in his book the bat-winged scribbler enters

their names / to be or not / honored by the host . . . & those left to rot

are devoured by the beasts Goya has set upon them & one owl hes kept

for himself as monitor & a hawk to mock the angels that will or will not

arrive in heaven . . . & the monster dog hes freed to regurgitate what

has become of the lives that were & are no longer . . .

Barcelona Diary
It's Mother's Day
By Dawn's Early Light at 120 Miles Per Hour
The Man With His Back To The Room
Intimacies, Prose. Poems and Stories
Homage to a Widow
It's Only TV
Improvisations - Chapbook
After Goya
Improvisations - From Contemporary Music
Mustering What's Left