Selected Poems
Around the sun, again? Whatever.
The green circle is broken.
On front stoop top step, shed needles
crunch beneath bare feet. Bleed.
Gaze past our broken windows
toss the damn wreath, already.
Pillage the boxes, bang stale
bread baked late at Christmas
against every interior wall.
Drive out the demons? Didn't
work last year, either. Idgiot.
Yule never know, what threatens
in a New Year. At midnight, our door
open welcomes strange warm winds.
Come cleanse these Celtic hearts.
We've weathered worse, bastard.
Shake both fists and we will fight.
