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mactheknife
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Moreover, thinking about one's mortality
is boring
and useless.
What will happen is this:
your knees will creak after a long run
and your back might hurt. (more)
In the West Bank city of Hebron, there are grape arbors in the back yards. Even in winter, the vines are lovely, green and lush, making one sigh with the beauty of  having this scene to look at every day. And the grapes that this arbor produces, juicy, dark, tempting.(more)
You were a beautiful young woman
who worked in my building, generous
with your smile and spirit.

On your desk
was an altar, stones, feathers, (more)
"I will not work anyplace that does not allow
sparklies," she said.
Damn right, I say. Life is short,
pass the glitter!
Let me sprinkle it in my office
and wear it my hair. (more)
My sense of humor was on crack
the day I glued the nickel to the dining room
table. In my baby faced innocence
I thought I could get away with it.
And I almost did, until my sister
walked in, inspecting my work like (more)
I had no idea the road to the St. George Monastery was such a mess. It was muddy and rutted and the taxi lurched alarmingly. We were driving up Wadi Qelt out of Jericho. The road gave way from rural land with a few Bedouin-owned camels here and there(more)
Poetry should read early in the morning
so that if feels like you're dreaming it
a personal message to you from the
proverbial mysterious stranger
but not not just any stranger
this one paints fabulous worlds on page (more)
Seeing how I've been called a "throwback" I'm going to embrace my "throwback-ness" and admit that my all-time favorite album is Bob Dylan's Blood on the Tracks. This album is full of poetry but it is also considered by many to be one of the most angry, bitter break-up(more)
It is 1983. I'm 18 years old and standing on the black sand of a Pacific coast beach. Its not quite what I expected but the wildness of it has me charmed. Driftwood is strewn along the beach and piled up haphazardly like it was thrown off a mountain(more)
This time of year it is possible to see eagles flying high above Lake Washington or roosting in the top of the  cottonwoods by the lakeshore. I love watching them from the bus stop across the street. Here I am - doing a banal activity like waiting for a bus(more)
Sorry I missed this apocalypse, guess I'll try to catch the next one.
You've been waiting a long time.
Waiting for the lights to go down
waiting for the phone call that never comes
wating for backup
wating for the bus
waiting for feedback (more)
My crow's feet are hidden behind a scar
next to my left eye, a small indented crescent
evidence of a violent and intimate meeting
with the pointed corner of a lacquered coffee table.

I was two years old. (more)
What does this mean, "cruel shoes"? Does it mean literally shoes that are cruel to your feet, like the impossibly pointy toe stilletos I feel compelled to buy and cram my equally impossibly wide feet into? This causes me to walk around in pain all day cursing the silly(more)
Sweet Potato was in love with Turnip. Turnip felt the same way about Sweet Potato. There was no reason why they shouldn't be together; thew were both root vegetables, after all. But they had their differences from time to time. Sweet Potato was impetuous and was quick to jump(more)