Category Archives: Cleveland

KILLERS IN TUTUS

The best of the poems, photos, and meditations to appear on UPICTURE have now been collected in a book,  KILLERS IN TUTUS, available at Amazon.  Click here.  The cover photo appeared on November 2, 2012 in an essay on Fasching … Continue reading

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Cleveland — The Flats

. Ruin, wreck, wasteland, a Sunday morning poem, a green light for seagulls: Take it.  Take it out of itself.  Make fences flower, find rhythms in rust, there’s flats and sharps on this staff, if I make  it sing.

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Wash ’em, stack ‘ em

. Wash ’em, stack ’em file ‘ em, fold ’em Just get it done. This is February: snow to shovel, taxes to file. Your fingers are blue, so take out the garbage. Plan ahead, carry a window scraper and put … Continue reading

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High cold work with copper and donuts

. Sitting in my car, the heater blowing sitting on my hands, and knowing the wind will slice me, mince me, I hear a sudden crack cross air, hammer on copper, one man calling Joe, bring up more rivets! A … Continue reading

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No exit so fine as one unneeded…

. No exit so fine as the one he didn’t know existed when he sat down to sketch the last gold and ocher leaves etching the trees into the hard white snow. He was alone, all that mattered, his line … Continue reading

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Pink Bike at the Art Museum

. For an early morning outing he took his daughter to the Art Museum, which he imagined in its Rocky majesty: They ran laps around the fountain and sprinted up steps to see the sunrise reflected on downtown skyscrapers: the … Continue reading

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Hang on by your icicles

. So this is progress, sunshine like glass on a sub-zero morning! Reminds me of those square tiles of butter perched on the ash-gray mashed potatoes. Afternoons I look at houses in Southern California on Zillow, but no millionaire, nothing … Continue reading

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The Approach of Winter

. Young and stupid, I thought of old poets depressed by the approach of winter as damaged trees, as lame dogs, lacking the lean into headwind. But the seasons teach us, and woe unto you whom the sand-sided wind does … Continue reading

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The e-mail veggie poem

. We have excess green beans, concord grapes, and tomatoes, and we’re going out of town. Would you like a delivery? We’ll eat ’em, for sure! When are you leaving? We might walk over to your house, our evening exercise, … Continue reading

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“Let me give you some advice”

. Let me give you some advice, they say, or we say, but when you’re losing, no advice finds that handhold on your brain, all the possibles look grim. Then the sad cliches march out, futures so feeble they slip … Continue reading

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