Tuesday, March 10, 2026

Ode to Pilsen

Passages from broken poems 

pathways back to my home

my bending backbone beckons

pigeons peck the corn filled ground

the graffiti and the engines

of the rushing buses

the frozen man with a cigar

his shadow on the black tar

smoke bellows up

while strobe lights flash

and coffee cups clank 

at the Jumping Bean


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Proper

There is no proper time to make a proper edit to this page of life No sentence unscathed which behooves itself to avoid run-on No gerund to ...