If blank verse well-travelled, then the puritans’ words would be holding us today instead of the modernists’ cry, the bards would be vacant and the…
I have been part of the Jupiterian tastes: the coming and going, the long-standing tests, the ease of mastery and the humility it gets too…
For every fire started I’d sooner forget how I speak in a code even to myself, how you reach out to me in every set…
Remaining uxoric, I wince at the phase of the passing moods, the lingering praise for deeds only faked, for freedoms won in a moment I…
No evocation of god nor holy grail can wade this emboldened maelstrom, no gale nor vocation, no reason for praise in this ensemble passing retrograde.…
Jupiter, hear me in our infinite hour: time so completely, too sweetly soured in this Saturnian verse, our beastly powers set to the Moon, the…