New Poems

Happening Frontier

It so happens, sometimes,
that eyes peer into and
past, and nothing familiar

is seen. Worried, as such,
the look excavates reaching
truths, and still,

only frontiers.
Intrigue scatters off to
clumsiness and it's all
hands up in the air;

shoulders shrug, and,
if careless, navel gazing
recommences.

Close

You wouldn’t know
at right off,
right before you,

that I’d like nothing
less than some

direct, tough questions.
It’s not, but it is
this public’s penchant

for vacillation,
gerrymandering voices,
that would have me seem
opaque
—at second glance.
Should we come close…

the breezes may break;
nothing seems to point
there, yet.