OFFERING

Muse please accept these small word fish;

Each day in vain I’ve spun out flashing lines,

Returning to me only airless,

Panicked silver bodies

flipping fins!

MY OWN BURROUGHS TRIBUTE

He rose and hung on history's nail

Old cock, trigger pictures, folded hands,

Our shotgun sheriff, an outpost sentinel

Scouring the Badlands in search of sin:

Sloth, sleepy morals, animal impulse

Perversions the confidantes he nursed.

They whispered at his shoulders and rattled shackles

As a dark horse rode him through criminal night

He hung his arms on history's nail,

Hat and bald skin soon following.

Leaving explosions in his wake,

Worded weapons, death-paled paragraphs.