Poetry and About Poetry

What can a poet do to make any difference in a pandemic? Two days left to get four of my kindle books free – Here’s sample from Early in the Day: “Bend, Oregon: The Fourth of July 1972” Tall pines, bed needles beneath, ash below rock precipice: He has come to an end of denials, and flows with the cold stream of melting ice. He cuts deep with the rivulets. He molds crevices in mud. He tears with the falling water and leaps rapids of rock and time diving for the valley. Surrounded there by sorties of mosquitoes, water wrigglings of snakes, he drifts through swamps in lazy near stagnation to the waterfall, and midair dances. He becomes mist. He powers the small generators. He runs to the city and becomes the river, suspends the swimming children and the sailboats highing to the wind; and he reflects fireworks by night.

What can a poet do to make any difference in a pandemic? Two days left to get four of my kindle books free – including Finite to Fail: Poems After Dickinson Here is a sample from Finite to Fail: “Emily’s Ghost Machine” i am nobody so you can misread letters randomed as words fall of musty dictionary i am no one or two or trinity zeroed before decimal point or after all where minimal i am not this or that nor noun nor name so easily returned without comment i am not placed in certainty or misplaced in doubt but lost between i have nothing new but what is borrowed stolen worn as rags motley fooled i envy you who fall out these cracks into bright light for i have shadows for i am shadows this in contrast left to beg for space where not allowed i am no one to sing of nothing but make these mumbles assonant to life i am nobody to ask if you wear my anonymity as saving grace