The Purpose of Brains

To fetch what’s in the back.
To taunt the absolute.
To recognize the gospel truth
not found in any book.

The Purpose of Trees

To heckle every kite.
To launch a thousand leaves.
To audition every bird whose
song’s his favorite seed.

A Life in Poetry Ain’t for Sissies

Now into my sixth decade of life and my fourth decade as a writer of poems, my life as a “poet” remains what it has been from the start: exhilarating, depressing, titillating, frustrating, enlightening and blinding. In other words, something unpredictable. Gratifying and yet often unsatisfying. Something a reasonable person might choose to avoid. While saying so may seem flip, I couldn’t be more sincere.