The Art Divas / Divas of Verse

The Lights Are On Everywhere   The Emperor must not be told night is coming. His armies are chasing shadows, Arresting whippoorwills and her...

Theory of Memory   Long, long ago, before I was a tormented artist, afflicted with longing yet incapable of forming durable attachments, lon...

Stranger   Today, I am a new man, a stranger in the town that bore me.   How simple it is to become a ghost — just one word, one gesture, an...

The Old Professor’s Book Evening blooms in heat a braying of bells  from August Town; my mind fizzles  over “A Grammarian’s Funeral,” its sp...

When You Lie   When you lie in the Bed of lost Flag-Cloth, with blue-black Syllables, in Snow-Eyelash-Shadow, the Crane through Thought- sho...

Washing the Elephant Isn't it always the heart that wants to wash the elephant, begging the body to do it with soap and water, a ladder,...

Wake Up   Wake up, my soul. I don’t know where you are, where you’re hiding, but wake up, please, we’re still together, the road is still be...