Memories and sadness and pains and threat and batterings And dreams and dreams and sufferings and

Seeking a pure avenue to reach to the fragile soul sacred winds are revealed carriers of all things they listen,

The journey of a thousand years has ended tired the little guy longs for a moment’s rest to remember his birth,

They make sounds like bags of marbles moving along on certain paths seeking evasive grooves filled with blood.

Greetings to a world I abandon for today I shed a strangest fate Bewildered by the statue I contemplate I have

You're the comma That pauses my heartbeat. Don't come with a full stop 'cus I can't stand your demise Love

At times I wonder why you're immobile This wonder led to realizations. Prior to realizations, I had made observations

Your problems, amigo, are my problems, and as lead-diesel traffic poisons the clean dry air of Lebanon, Arabia, New

When I spoke to the young professor of Lavinia and Vanzetti of the meeting of minds a middle class woman a

I did not intend these jottings to become 'a journal of the plague year' It spoils everything, you know, those who

Our friends are not going to Florida, but we are. They have pre-existing conditions. We have existing conditions of

By the bridge in the boggy pond built of old men's hands and faces that conform to the scramble of brush beneath

Know no one willing to take your survival in exchange for America loves your children and grandchildren— that

The depression left my apartment a collection of trash and books I pretended wasn’t there, hid dirty cat litter

Two heavy solid wood doors, painted a chipped sea-green, stand fifty feet apart on one wall of the basement. Old

I console myself by saying this too shall pass Everything happens for a reason There is a time to live and a time

The mind wonders & wanders like a crane in the sky when it sights an alluring meal of poem, garnished with the

We were no strangers; Sheep in the same fold. Birds wearing same feathers & humming the songs; Fishes

You need a place, its name, its smell, its sense of life, its coordinates. I won't say that I'm absolutely confident

Like the Thales of Miletus, I tell my tales of how thousands things Are made up of another thousands Things in my