There was a secret sidewalk
In my hometown
That we walked every day
Coming home from school
Despite the shroud of hanging inchworms
That veiled the path
Through our little wilderness.
I went back last year
To find a row
Of swimming pools.

Two cats in an open window
Big cat wants
to preserve his prerogatives
Little cat thinks
it should be his turn
But for now,
It's time to watch birds
together.

At Camp Sloane,
After waterfront,
They came for Moose.
"Your mother is sick,"
They told him.
"She's going to die."
Moose went home.
We went to campcraft.
My mother died next winter,
After a long illness.

Cool guys in black slacks
Hot Chicks in stiletto heels
Drinks raised in garden-level bars
And a few couples
With baby carriages

It must be strange to have five feet,
Which open clamshells nice and neat,
And hunt the shallow ocean floor,
Equipped with these and little more.
One day washed up high and dry,
Underneath the arid sky,
To end your days on some child's shelf.
I think I'd rather be myself.

Two heads, chins resting comfortably
On each other’s coils.
Eyes Fixed
Glazed or implacable
Far Away
Entwined tails
Writhe in ecstasy

I sing no songs of mystic whales
I find no ultimate harmony
In the balance of caribou and wolves
I do not proclaim the salvation
Of man in the wisdom of the wild
The law of nature is a cruel knife
And I know the dark underside of the woods
Is the death by rending of all who
Live in its green halls
Except that one creature who chose
To walk concrete passageways
And live by the hum
Of his own constructs
I do not begrudge my ancestors their choice
To flee the ruthless machinery of nature
And seek a longer life
In a world of straight lines
And unnatural light
Why then does my soul fill up with peace
When I watch the sun set
In a sky brushed with
Cinnamon and gold?