Coleman Barks
Praise for the porchbed is praise for SLEEP. Wrapped in cricket and cicada-sound sleep. Rapt in rain sleep. Worry and all-trouble erasing sleep. Smoothed-out sleep. Counting sheep and Bo Peep sleep. One two three four five six seven sleep and go to heaven where all your good new friends are fixing deviled eggs. Hey good […]
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The Delight of Making Up Gods; Elegy for Galway, Late October; Vanilla and Banana-Peanut Butter; Hub; The Truth of One Short Poem; & Fjord
IN Summer 2016
for Herb Creecy Ten years ago I drove down to Barnesville to see my friend, the artist Herb Creecy, who was dying of pancreatic cancer. He chose this way to end up: No hospital. Horse spittle. No chemo, lots of painkillers, with his son Lee nearby to help out. He calls his friends on […]
Read MoreIN Winter 2014
