Rings and Keys in Ste Genevieve

Rental house done
in typewriter theme
boxed wine in the fridge
fuzzy comet up high

Typewriter ribbon
run dry
ink disappearing
into dust
lost as a sinking

Baseball delayed by disease
five planets visible
all-numeric password
my wife and I
driving in the dark
in a very old town
that neither of us knew
to get our eyes on a comet
no one knew would be there

Corona is
a brand of typewriter
of beer
of pruning tool
a constellation Borealis
a fancy word for halo:

That ring we saw during the solar eclipse
that pearly glow

A gaseous envelope
burning hotter
than the Sun itself

Leaving an Empty Bottle of Wine Along the Windowsill of a Canal Boat


FISA light is
          FISA light is
     knowing what you're
             knowing what you're


   I have been in bed
              late at night
          happy where I was.
     When I got up
           the cupboard poured me
        No one else was up yet,
            I was the only person awake
            in the entire world.


    Moscow mule, Moscow million.
 Moscow million, I
          don't want to fight you.
   My country hasn't
                       the troops.
       Contrary to what your man
       read over my shoulder
                    on the plane —
  The soldiers are not feeling the wood, 
    they're felling the wood.
 You know,
           getting ready to write
       really old,
           long-old novels.
     Wire between their
         fingers & wire in
   their brains.   Wire, already,
   on their deforested teeth.

Continue with this poem...