The Poet's Study

Plus a sampling of Blindside: 97 Triads

Blindside is a suite of 97 triads (3-line poems that are not haiku). They came to me in a rush—I could scarcely keep up with scribbling them into my notebook. They seem to be mostly about writing and the eriting life. I think it couteous of me that I am subjecting the reader to only fifteen of them here—and not the whole 97.

from Blindside:

a red husband
and a violet wife 
their houseplants in blue light

the garage door opens
for the overburdened car
groceries get out

trembling cats
sulk in the garden
under an irritable moon

insects nest
in the bookcases
books piled up like snow

your abashment
falls like a ripe plum
from a velvet tree

I bought you a carnation,
a lantern for your
saccharine walks

why is a raven
like this old house?
the contents of its croak

lamps stay off
when you turn them on
what safe majesty is this?

words are cold
in the fridge
freezing in trays of text

writing is a contract
until it leaves
its smiling forge

any fairy tale
leaves you alone 
in a twisted tree

images are ships
on an icy ocean
shoving their rhythmic bows

musing on greener soil
a parrot and a writing desk
dry in wet sand

all of our meals 
are polished amber
garnished with eyelashes

swimming naked
in a resolve of ocean
you get smiles from golden jellyfish