a poem for BJS

another poem only published in a small 'zine - this one 1998 - the 'zine - Post Amerika. the indentations are the result of my inability to format (and space) correctly in this blog ... but you get the idea, i hope. and the mantra is? Oh come on - it's support small presses if you can. (there won't be a test on the subject today, but who knows about tomorrow ...

voting on the new work contract is today and tomorrow .... it'll pass i am certain, as no one is willing to go on strike as in 2001 and suffer the possible consequences, which could be a complete mill closure. understanding my high regard of former union officials (and the union in general) it's a fair gamble i may miss attending informational sessions at the sacred hall. but to be fair, my regard for the management isn't too much higher ....



FOR BJS IN COLORADO

glacier cut valley
osprey on an occluded updraft
the sound of gold in your pocket

you are the laughter
whispered
the laughter i hear
in the aching of bones

the smell of morning glory

& alabaster rivers shouting
down the face of ancient mountains
certain to be worn away

you are the laughter
echoed
the laughter i feel
in the aching of bones