17 September 2021

Saturn:

Saturn is everything, but I snagged a little corner of him in a poem that Ekphrastic Review ran last week:

        They would dub his the Golden Age
        which he'd predicted and molded
        but didn't contemplate.
        Even gods can’t quite imagine their ends.


Even now, as usual, I can't help but re-write:

    They would dub his age Golden / as he'd predicted and molded / but didn't see whole...

Hmmmm. 

    / but never saw whole 

    / but didn't fathom...? 

Good afternoon. 

09 June 2021

My poem on adjunct teaching, medieval nuns, and finance is up on Juked

I'm pretty happy that Juked make a space for this poem which probably has a very limited audience....


 When summer approaches, adjunct teachers worry about money


     ii

imagine this (or at least consider) I’m Clare of Assisi & I’ve got a little convent

in 1227 so petitioning Greg 9 (pope) for “the one thing that is necessary”:

privilege of a possession-free world


pope’s opposed since such a world is bad for consumer capitalism kidding!

fears empty-bellied women doing good will upset soup carts then there’s Francis

already in Assisi


famed for his hunger games