Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Garage Sale: page 7

Dallas, Texas: The First Garage

"Curtain Call"

The plane
screeches at wind;
singing props unwind sound;
wing flaps shudder, the tail expels

suited in blues
wait at the door, holding
caps, catching kisses blown toward
the passengers ushered
down the metal

I see
through grated stairs
puzzled ground; gingerly
down steps, my child-full mother

Now in
curtained corner
spare, white, mother there, laid
on metal table, tended by
white dresses dressing scrapes,
knee, elbow, chin
in gauze.

I gaze...
I hold my breath,
I touch, with finger tips
I tap the top where cotton cloth
hangs down.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Garage Sale!

It's time to announce my Garage Sale. Last summer I put a group of poems together and designed a chapbook. The poems are odds and ends of memories made during a nomadic childhood. No two people remember a moment, even a shared moment, in quite the same way. Since these stem from a growing child's mind, they are open to interpretation. I hope you find something you like in my dusty garage...

Note: Blogger doesn't like PDFs, so I will post a new page daily (beginning tomorrow). If all goes well, I will include a few copies of pages from the book to show off the design. Unfortunately, the quality of the online copies is not clear. Next step: Kay will need to learn html...

If you are interested in a pretty, handmade version, please e-mail me at

  Self / Eleventh Letter Press

US Price:
  $8.00 (covers materials plus shipping)

  Paperback, 5.5" x 8.5"
  52 pages

  card stock cover
  32 lb. ultra white paper
  cotton thread
  hemp thread

Sunday, March 4, 2012

On Powell Butte

stillness hangs
in the midst of wood
chalky breath
anointing the daily
search for Godot

green meets green
a meditation of leaves
fills my glance
between suburban walls
the birds sing the blues

Saturday, March 3, 2012

Little Gull, Little Gull, Let Me In!

a gull on the beach
his beak is marked
by a bull's-eye

I'm peck, peck, pecking

but, it's not my place

the gull laughs
at my huffing-puffing
regurgitory expositories

               ... and flies away!

Friday, March 2, 2012


a clam
now empty
a shell picked over
by a gull and flown for a while

Thursday, March 1, 2012

To Tide Me Over

when the shell is washed
ashore, the hand is waiting
to collect the walls
of an empty home