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BE Twain May 2023
You know what the difference was?
It was whipped cream.
With one line of code,
I could solve everything.
Quote poem.
BE Twain Nov 2017
I was thrown from a boat like a prophet,
washed ashore on an Island of Baalbek-sized structures.
In the Atlantic, under the ‘i’ and ‘c’,
thirty-three north, thirty-three west, degrees.

Ancient mariners must have missed it,
concentric waterways and land bridges, cut by a channel to the sea.
Occasional women gathering and cutting cane,
dirges being sung by a certain, Sarah.

Farther up around the outer ring,
a Bay horse, trapped in a tidal pit.
Just enough seaweed at high tide,
eyes white from living in the dark.

A strange place,
I find myself the only man,
another Adams or Crusoe.
I will free the Bay tomorrow, and head inland.
BE Twain Oct 2016
There is gum in this napkin
Poseidon sent Delphin
To fetch him a Sea Nymph
With whom he had children

There was no arranged marriage
No blue borrowed baggage
Just a soul set to sea
Locked fast in the steerage

A put-upon child
Chased by malady
A Mausoleum door
Opened just for the rabbitry

The epitaph read:
He missed his mother.
A lamb to the slaughter.
There was no one’s daughter.
If you pass by,
then throw in some carrots
for the angels have eyes.

It fell at long last,
Carried in by a straggler
A burial shroud for the body
Outlining his master
BE Twain Oct 2016
I find myself in snow
walking on moon dust
pressing in tracks
out in winter

trees looking down on me, what do they want
douglas fir, trembling aspens and more
solitary in a green dark
the cold of night in North Vancouver

just me
walking a white trail
a marked path
leaving foot stones

looking back
the way disappears into nothing
looking ahead
keep going, he told me
My uncle was a ski instructor on the mountains of british columbia when people used to ski on wooden skis, he was one of my best friends in life. he passed recently, and his last words to me were, keep going
BE Twain Sep 2016
I wanted a cup of coffee
not the whole ***
leave the rest for someone else
BE Twain Sep 2016
It was some yesterday,
sitting in my high chair
eating salted cucumber slices
a wooden one
three adjustments only
locked in
a bumble bee landed on my arm
the pain raced through my blood and brain
little pin ******
I could not get out
my memory stops there
sitting in my chair.
BE Twain Sep 2016
the “thundering legion”
nether regions
lightning lesions
an ace up the sleeve
for Marcus Aurelius
an ace up the sleeve
for those on the omnibus
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