It is quiet tonight in Clarkstown, years of growth
have consumed the land, heaving the buildings to rubble,
resurrecting the old beneath, leaving silt and clay
sere at the surface to overtake what was once cement and
remnants of the human hand, above the resting dinosaurs and
the great mainsails of spiraling galaxies.
With respect,
Chagall 2018
Everywhere – didactic thrusts.
Chagall 2018
She said she wasn’t crying, that
people inhale sharply sometimes
Chagall 2018
I have already ascertained
the regrets I will die with
Chagall 2018
You be the one today
Chagall 2018
I was forced today to look up calumnious;
it has nothing to do with discovery – new worlds –
but all about Queen Isabella
Chagall 2018
Got on the bus today, sat behind the driver,
looked at the old lady across, turned right,
in the back, seated on the aisle,
the second bench of two, the passenger side of the vehicle,
was a guy. We held stare for a count of 5
and concluded simultaneously that we looked exactly like one another.
We both grinned from ear to ear and nodded vigorously our mutual understanding.
Even as he exited, in profile and waving from the street as the bus pulled away
he was my physical twin. The bus filled up
eventually. No one had noticed so no one
to remember, nor anyone to forget.
Only us.
Chagall 2018
Eternal regards
It goes on…and on…and on…
Such is forever
Chagall 2018
In the deepest night
the woods are not black
but are ebon-green;
soundlessly cold wind rallies
in the gaps of the underbrush
aloft alongside zephyrs
gray and deep lilacs on black
the color of moonlessness
in dark meadows motionless
waves despite the churn
underwater horizons outlined in indigo
and out I go in a spin
that old green magic: horizontal
– a will-o’-the-wisp doing backfloats
with viewpoint shifted sailing slowly steadily up
lost in the monochromatic.
Chagall 2018
Alphabet City 